


Stitches

by FlufferNutterButter



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Drugs, F/M, Gang Business, Gangs, Humanstuck, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 02:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlufferNutterButter/pseuds/FlufferNutterButter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard, growing up as the son of a renowned gang leader, having to participate in the family business, taking care of your insane brother, and constantly having to watch your own back.</p><p>It's hard, working as a nurse in one of the most crime-infested cities in the country, having a boyfriend who's always away, being reminded of your presumed failures, and having to keep being cheerful.</p><p>It's hard, and no one understands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What had started as a plan to crank out the longest one-shot I've ever written dissolved into me getting down more than sixteen thousand words before deciding that A) I couldn't possibly finish this whole thing by Halloween and B) more than twenty thousand words at one time can be a handful.
> 
> This will probably be between five and seven chapters.

_It’s all so simple, really…_

Kurloz Makara thought this to himself as he lay dying. At least, he was pretty sure he was dying. He’d never died before, but this was probably what it felt like. There was a bullet wound in his chest, pouring blood out onto his shirt, and some was dripping onto the ground. He could feel other aches and pains around his body; his shoulder may have been broken. There was probably a gash in his leg. One of the guys had hit him hard in the neck; he didn’t think he could speak. He was probably going to bruise like a motherfucker tomorrow.

If tomorrow ever came.

_If you don’t want to die, don’t piss off the guy holding the gun._

Did he want to die? It wasn’t a foreign thought… Gang business was… tricky, to say the least, and he entertained the thought every once in a while. Everyone did. Few people entered a gang looking for glory. Death and drugs and guns?  He never wanted that for a life. Nobody would.

Well, maybe the sick fucks that ran the gangs did. But they weren’t him.

If anything, he certainly hadn’t planned on going out like this, bleeding out in a back alley from a bullet wound, a gang confrontation gone wrong. It wasn’t even a confrontation, not really. He’d been jumped. Nobody but him.

He couldn’t even call for help. He resigned himself to that. Other members would have been wondering where the guts and glory were. At least he was content to die quietly.

But was it supposed to take this long? How long had he been here? How much longer was it going to take? He could feel himself going slowly numb, but nothing else was happening. He couldn’t move; he couldn’t speak, and apparently, he couldn’t die.

Not that he was going so far as to say he was immortal, of course. The thought flitted through his head just as he felt his vision go dark. Was this it? Probably not. He didn’t think he was on the brink of death.

The people running towards him didn’t think the same thing.

~~~

Waking up from being unconscious for an indeterminate amount of time was the most disorienting thing Kurloz had ever felt. Added to that was the definite, throbbing pain practically all over his body and the certainly uncomfortable feeling of _something_ attached to his mouth and down his throat that made this wake-up possibly the worst one he’d ever encountered.

As he resurfaced from the depths of his unconscious state, Kurloz realized where he was. He’d been in enough hospitals to recognize the smell of antiseptic, the sound of heart monitors, and the impossibly bright lights burning into his eyelids. He had never, however, been in such awful shape that regaining consciousness was such a miserable encounter.

There was one obvious bright side to all of this, though. He was still alive. And, as he finally mustered the willpower to open his eyes and do a brief scan about the room, he found another; the very, very cute nurse that was currently changing out his IV bag.

_“Hey.”_

Kurloz tried to speak, but there was the small matter of the tube down his throat preventing that. He still wanted to get her attention, though.

Unfortunately, she turned away, looking like she was going to leave. Though his movements were sluggish, Kurloz pushed himself enough so that he could reach out with his arm. He wanted to grab her elbow, or her shirt, just anything that would make her look at him. But he was weaker than he’d thought; a hand that was supposed to reach her arm fell lower than he planned. He ended up making a _definitely_ accidental ass grab.

Not that that brief moment wasn’t enjoyed.

The nurse in question shrieked loudly at the contact, having believed her patient to be unconscious. She clapped a hand over her mouth and put the other against the wall, regaining her composure from the fright. She was still breathing heavy when she turned to see her patient’s eye open, mouth struggling to talk around the tube.

“You’re awake!” she gasped, hand lowering to rest on her chest as she took a few more deep breaths. “I, ok, I’m going to get the doctor.”

 _No_. Kurloz made a sound in the back of his throat. It came out more desperate than he would have liked, but given the circumstances, he couldn’t have done better. His moan did its job; the nurse turned back around. She smiled comfortingly at him.

“Don’t worry, okay? I’m going to be right back.” She waved and disappeared out the door.

~~~

The cute nurse was back within minutes, middle-aged doctor in tow. The man was pleased that Kurloz had awoken, and did some routine checks to make sure he was okay, or as okay as a gunshot wound victim could be. As he did these checks, he asked some questions.

“Do you know where you are? Nod, yes or no.”

Kurloz made a movement to nod, but the awful contraption still attached to his face made much head movement difficult. Instead, he raised his fist and shook it from side to side.

The nurse’s eyes lit up at his movement. “Yes! He’s saying yes.” The doctor looked at her for a moment, assessing her judgment, before nodding and scribbling something on his clipboard.

“Thank you, Nurse Leijon.” She beamed at his praise. The doctor continued asking Kurloz questions as he busied himself checking vitals.

Did he remember what happened? _Yes._ Did he know why he was here? _Yes._ What was his name?

Kurloz looked to the nurse, waiting for her to stop watching the doctor and start watching him. She caught his eye, and he began signing letters.

_K-U-R-L-O-Z--M-A-K-A-R-A_

“His name is K-Kurloz Makara, sir,” the nurse reported. The doctor’s stature changed.

“Ah yes, Makara. You’ve been to this hospital before.” The nurse noticed the change of tone of the doctor, frowning. She looked from him to Kurloz, and back. The doctor continued on about Kurloz’s condition, in a decidedly more bitter tone than should have been used, until he turned, one final time, to the nurse.

“I believe he can be disconnected from all but the necessary equipment. He won’t need the tube in, either, anymore. Take care of that.” He exited.

Nurse Leijon walked briskly to the side of the bed and leaned over, tracing the edge of the mask holding the tube in place.

“This is going to hurt a little bit. I’m sorry. Hold onto something if you need to.” She hooked her fingernails under the area firmly attached to his face and lifted, separating it. She worked slowly, until the mask was gone, and all that was left was the tube itself. Little by little, she began to remove the tube.

It hurt. It was a strange sort of pain as the tube was pulled up his throat. The pain wasn’t unbearable, but it hurt in a place he’d never hurt before. He couldn’t bandage his throat like he could his arm, or anywhere else on the surface of his body.

It wasn’t unbearable, though, and he found that he could push through it. It helped that the nurse’s face was right above his. When his eyes weren’t squeezed shut in discomfort, Kurloz kept his eyes on her face. Her hair, which was a wild mass of black, was kept away from her face by a hair tie, with the exception of her bangs. At this distance, he could see the color of her eyes; a deep, olive green. They were concerned for him, and that confounded him. Why would she, an unconnected, yet cute, nurse who didn’t even know him feel worried for him? And yet, as he thought about it he realized that was exactly it: the nurse _didn’t_ know who he was.

The tube was out of his throat then; he coughed. And after he coughed once, he coughed again, and again, until he jerked upwards. The nurse, who had leaned back once the instrument was removed, got near him again, putting her arms around him to support him while he cleared his throat. When he finally stopped, just making a few wheezing noises, she handed him the cup of water that had previously sat by his bed.

“Here. Drink this,” she placed the glass in his hand, but left her hand on his, supporting it and making sure he didn’t drop the cup. Slowly, he drank. The water did soothe his throat, and he began to drink faster, but he regretted that when he finished and the nurse removed her hand.

“Do you want more?”

Kurloz nodded. The nurse stood up and made her way to the door.

_Wait._

Kurloz was suddenly overtaken with a need to know her name. Leijon was her last name, from what the doctor had called her.

“Y-” he coughed again. He didn’t seem to be able to form words. “You-kch… Yah…” he cleared his throat again.

“… Your name…” he barely made a hoarse whisper. For a moment, he wondered if she’d even been able to hear him. But she stopped. She turned. She smiled.

“Meulin.”

~~~

“Meulin? Are you listening to me?”

“Oh?” Meulin looked up quickly. “Sorry, Kankri, I’m just a little distracted today.”

“Clearly.” He sighed. “Well, I was just saying that I’m not going to be able to come home for a few days; I’ll probably be heading out of town.”

“Really?” Meulin frowned. “Kankitty, you just got home two days ago! And I’ve been working all day.”

“Meulin, they need me. I don’t mean to be offensive, but I think it’s a little more important than missing a few dinners-”

“I know, I know,” Meulin huffed. “Go. Help people. I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Thank you, Meulin.” Kankri picked up his plate and carried it around the table, stopping as he passed Meulin’s seat to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Good night.”

Meulin listened to her boyfriend clean his dish and walk back to their shared bedroom. She didn’t join him, not right away. Instead, she poked at the food still on her plate and let her mind wander back to what had captured her attention during dinner: Kurloz Makara.

~~~

The next morning, Kurloz sat impatiently in his bed, waiting for Meulin. He’d had a different nurse at night, someone who wasn’t nearly as cute. But he’d been told that Meulin would be back to care for him that morning. He couldn’t wait.

He heard a familiar voice carry down the hallway, and he smiled.

“You didn’t have to walk me to the room, Kankri.”

“I wanted to.” A male voice. Kurloz frowned. From his position, he could see the two; Meulin, in green scrubs, and a man, in a red shirt. They stopped just outside the door.

“I’ll be back on Friday.”

“Have a safe trip.” Meulin leaned up to give the man a quick kiss on the lips. Kurloz felt something cold squeeze in his gut. The man in the red shirt walked away, and Meulin stared after him, a somewhat discontent expression on her face. She sighed and walked into the room. When she noticed Kurloz watching, she blushed.

“Good morning.” Her voice lacked a hint of its normal cheer. Kurloz reached for a pad of paper, which he had been given the previous night, since he’d found speaking to be troublesome with his irritated throat. He and Meulin had communicated with it for a short while the day before. He wrote.

_ARE YOU OKAY?_

Meulin read his message and shifted her gaze. “Yeah.”

Kurloz raised an eyebrow at her. She shook her head.

“This is a hospital, and _I’m_ the one who’s supposed to be worried about _you_.”

Kurloz flipped to a new sheet of paper.

_TROUBLE IN PARADISE?_

“You did see that, then?” Meulin laughed lightly. “I’m sorry. That was… never mind.”

 _DO YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT_?

“Um… that’s not exactly professional…”

Kurloz wrote one more message and smiled when he showed it to her.

_I DON’T MIND._

Meulin looked to the door, as if contemplating, before suddenly sitting down in the chair next to his bed. Before she could help it, she was spilling everything.

“He’s sweet, he really is. I’ve known him forever, and we’ve dated since high school. And he cares about me. But he cares about _everything_ ; he can’t even take a joke because it might offend someone. And because of that, he’s working on all of these ‘save the world’ projects, and they take _all of his time_. And I’m here at the hospital a lot, so we hardly ever get to spend time together. And when we do, his mind is always somewhere else, and when I mention that I want to do more, he brings up his jobs, and I feel so guilty putting our relationship before others’ _lives_ , but I just can’t help it sometimes!” She took a breath. Her voice had started to get really high in volume towards the end. Kurloz nodded.

“And I love him, I really do, but being with him has started to feel like a _job_ for me, more so than _this_ job, and I feel like I’d rather be here than with him, and I think he’d rather be working than with me.” She put her head in her hands. “Does that make me a bad person?”

Kurloz moved his hand to rest over hers, against her cheek. She raised her head and looked up, and he took her hand in his. He shook his head, no. She smiled at him.

“I’m sorry for unloading all of that on you.”

Kurloz shook his head and shrugged, and in response a truly sweet smile, in Kurloz’s opinion, graced her face.

“Thanks.”

~~~

A short while later, Meulin had been in and out a few times for various chores. When she reentered the room this time, she brought news.

“By the way…” She said, “The doctor has contacted your father, and he’s on his way now.”

Whatever happy thoughts Kurloz may have had about what was going on between him and Meulin vanished. Sure, she didn’t hate him now, since she didn’t know about his involvement with one of the local gangs, but everyone knew his dad was the leader of a gang. The very second Mr. Makara walked through the door, Meulin would make the connection. She’d avoid him. She’d shun him, just like the doctor had before.

But there wasn’t anything he could do about it. There was no way out of this situation. He would have to resign himself to this.

She had a boyfriend, anyway.

Meulin noticed how despondent Kurloz had become following the news of his father’s arrival, and could only guess at the sort of bad blood between them. She’d taken a few shots in the dark as to his day-to-day life based on the state of what she’d seen of his body in between checking stitches and changing IVs, finding it curious that he’d have so many scars of various sorts, and taking into consideration the place he’d been found and the doctor’s reaction to his identity. But these pieces didn’t fit together in her mind to form a definite picture. She still hadn’t quite figured it out when she heard someone else enter the room and clear his throat. She turned…

And came face-to-chest with the largest man she’d ever seen face to face.

Meulin stifled a gasp.

“Are you M-Mr. Makara?”

The man nodded. He didn’t speak.

Meulin took this as a sign to continue, so she tried to calm her nerves. “Your son Kurloz was brought in at-three days ago, at 11:34 PM, with a gunshot wound in his chest and multiple bruises and lacerations all over his body, the most serious of which being a large gash on his left cuh-calf and a moderate to severe strain on his left sou-shoulder. He spent the n-next forty-one hours unconscious, and we didn’t learn of his identity until yesterday, which is why we weren’t able to contact you until last night.”

“I know,” Mr. Makara’s voice was deep and rough. “I am aware of my son’s circumstances.” He looked to the bed. Kurloz rolled his eyes and gave his father an unenthusiastic middle finger. His father just turned his gaze back to the nurse.

“We must insist that he stay until tomorrow, just to make sure everything’s okay.”

“That’s fine with me. Is that all?” Mr. Makara looked like he was ready to go.

“Bu-but don’t you want to talk to him? Check on him? He’s your son, after all!”

Kurloz took in a sharp breath. _Nobody_ talked to his father like that. Most people just wanted to keep things as short as possible. Mr. Makara was not known for his patience in dealing with people he deemed “beneath him”. His father quirked an eyebrow, giving the small nurse in front of him a once-over.

“You okay?”

Kurloz was shocked. He’d seen his father shatter a man’s arm in his grip without giving a thought to it for wasting his time. He could definitely do the same thing to Meulin’s _neck_. But he was complying with her request.

He coughed, clearing his throat, and shrugged. “More or less,” he said, his voice coming out raspy and weak. His father nodded.

“I’ve checked on him. Now, I’ll be on my way…unless you have some other request to make of me?”

Meulin shook her head, taking a deep breath. “No, sir. Thank you.” She gave him one of her smiles. “Have a nice day!”

This time, when Kurloz’s father quirked his eyebrow, it was much more interested. He gave her another look up and down, and then turned and left.

“Your father’s quite the… intimidating character, isn’t he?” Meulin said as soon as Mr. Makara was gone.

Kurloz nodded. This was it. She knew who he was now. She was going to hate him. Fear him. But instead of talking to him, Meulin looked thoughtfully at nothing. She didn’t break her gaze for a long time.

~~~

The next morning, Meulin helped Kurloz back into his clothes, being careful around his left arm, which was in a sling. As she did so, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Her brow was creased, like she was thinking about something.

It wasn’t until Kurloz’s skeleton jacket was back on, and he was just about to leave the room, that she spoke.

“When I told your father that you’d need to stay here one more night, I wasn’t exactly telling the truth.”

Kurloz looked confused, but kept quiet, hoping she’d elaborate.

“When I told you he was coming, you looked so… negative. I thought that maybe, you needed protection, and I wasn’t going to let him…” she sighed. “I didn’t think-I never imagined you’d be in such rough shape because you’re the son of a gang leader.” At this point, she looked up at him. “I don’t think any less of you because of that, okay? Just because you have some… baggage… doesn’t mean I don’t…” Meulin closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deep. “Take care, okay? And if you get into any trouble, you can come here.”

Kurloz was still for a while, absorbing what Meulin had said. The corners of his mouth turned upward.

“Meulin.”

She looked up at him. His voice was still rough, but she could hear the tone underneath. It sounded a little like his father’s. Deep. Smooth.

“Thank you.”

Her sunny smile lit up the room. “You’re welcome.”

Kurloz Makara walked out of the hospital and closed that chapter of his life.

~~~

If only fate would allow.

Two weeks later, Kurloz was simply walking down the street, contemplating a job he’d just been assigned, when he heard a voice behind him.

“…oh? Oh! Kurloz!”

He turned to see a familiar figure. Dressed in jeans and a blouse, with a brown jacket thrown over top, was the nurse. She ran the few steps in between the two of them.

“Kurloz, do you remember me?” she asked, voice breathy and high. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear; without her hair tie, the strands seemed to float around her head, aided in their flight by the wind.

“Of course I do, Meulin,” he assured her. She grinned.

“I’m glad. You look a lot better. You sound better, too!”

“Mm-hmm. You fixed me up motherfucking well,” Kurloz said.

Meulin giggled. “Well, it wasn’t just me!” She looked down.

The two fell into an awkward silence, with shuffling feet and averted glances. Kurloz was about to excuse himself from the situation, when suddenly, Meulin blurted.

“Do you want to go to lunch?”

Kurloz was taken aback by her blunt proposal. Of course, the answer should have been immediate; he’d love to. But in the back of his mind, he knew he had a job to do. He hadn’t quite accepted it, but…

His pause was taken the wrong way by Meulin. “I mean, you don’t motherfuckin’ have to. It was a dumb request, I’m sorry-”

“Sure. Where do you want to go?”

~~~

The lunch spot was a little diner crammed in between two large shops, and generally a pretty popular place. Service was fast, though, and they didn’t have to wait long for a table; they were quickly seated in a booth by the window.

About five minutes after sitting, Kurloz voiced a thought that had occurred to him.

“Um, Meulin…”

“Yes?”

“Not to make things awkward, but isn’t this… sort of…” he took a deep breath, “Won’t your boyfriend get… jealous?”

Meulin laughed. “No! He’s not _that_ controlling. I have plenty of guy furriends. I go out with them all the time. What makes you any different?”

Kurloz was slightly hurt by that statement, though he didn’t let it show. Meulin realized her faux pas.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

Meulin paused, giving him a look, as if she were studying his face. “You’re really nice.”

It was Kurloz’s turn to laugh. “You’re probably the only one who thinks like that.”

“That can’t be true!” Meulin sounded appalled. Kurloz was surprised by her ardent insistence. “You’re very nice! We get a lot of gang members and people like that at the hospital, and none of them have been as nice as you!”

Kurloz couldn’t help but smile. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestication abounds, and way too many people want to know the dirty details, of which there are few.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the first bit of this chapter was actually supposed to be the last bit of the previous chapter, but nobody cares. That is, though, why this chapter is 4,000 words longer than last chapter. There was supposed to be a 5,000-6,000 split, instead of 3,000-7,000-ish.

After an encounter like that, it was hard for Kurloz to go back to the daily grind, but he had something to do. Regardless of whether he wanted to take the job or not, he had to go see the person asking for his help.

He was glad Meulin hadn’t wanted to walk with him, because he didn’t want her to see him walking into a place like this.

The air outside the strip club smelled of pot and other things, and it would only get worse when he went inside. He wasn’t against participating in such activities, but he hated going into a negotiation without his wits about him. After he nodded to the bouncer, who recognized him as a regular for all the wrong reasons, he lifted his arm to cover his mouth and nose.

The lighting was miserably dim anywhere but the stages, where girls were dancing and grinding in various stages of undress. The first time he’d been in here, they’d all been grabbing him and touching him, drawing him into their shows. But now, they barely spared him a glance. He wasn’t interested in them.

At the back of the club, there was a group of doors, all leading to rooms of the performers not on stage. Certain people had access to these rooms, and Kurloz was only allowed in one; that being the dark red door with Chinese symbols painted over it in black. This was the only room he could go in, and it was the only room he cared about. He knocked.

The door opened almost immediately, and the person that he was there to see stood on the other side, dressed in nothing but a silken, dark red robe that matched the door. Her hair was pinned up as it usually was, and she had certainly spent time getting her face ready. Kurloz frowned; all of that, and she still didn’t bother to get dressed for him. Damara Megido had a one-track mind.

“Kurloz…” she crooned in her foreign accent, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. Kurloz shifted his gaze.

“I’m only here on motherfuckin’ business, Damara. You know that.”

Instantly, the sweet, seductive smile was replaced with a disgusted sneer. Damara flipped him off. “Fine. Get in here.” She left the door open for him, and he let himself inside.

“You’re late.” She stated everything bluntly.

“I had other motherfuckin’ things to attend to. Not that it’s any of your mot-”

“I have show in fifteen minutes. Make quick. You in or out?” Damara scowled at him.

He’d prepared for this. Dealing with Damara was always a challenge, in between her demanding nature and seduction attempts. On the way that day, he’d rehearsed in his mind exactly what he would say to keep this conversation as short as possible. He would take the job, set his pay rate, and decide on a time. Three things. So easy.

“Out.”

The word surprised him as much as it did Damara, whose eyes were wide in confusion and suspicion.

“Out?”

Kurloz backpedaled, but his expression remained calm. He needed to remedy this situation. He didn’t know where to go from here.

“I’m out. I don’t need your motherfuckin’ money, not this time.”

That was, decidedly, not a way to remedy the situation. But he was past the point of no return; there was only one thing to do now. Walk out.

~~~

That interaction put Kurloz in a bad mood for the rest of the day, which was only heightened by his dad’s return home.

Kurloz had been sitting on the sofa at the time, just thinking about dreading the moment his father walked through the door.

He still lived with his dad. Though Kurloz had plenty of money and talent to go out and get a job and a house of his own, there were a few things that kept him from utilizing his resources. Firstly, the fact that he couldn’t escape the gang, not really. If he tried to run, he’d be dragged back, either kicking and screaming or in a body bag.

Neither of these options appealed to him.

Secondly, he did have some duties around the house; namely, keeping his little brother, Gamzee, in check. Especially now that Gamzee had a car of his own, Kurloz had to make sure that he was in line. Drugs stayed in the basement, no questions asked. If he got caught driving under the influence of drugs, the punishment came down on both of them. Gamzee was a wild card; his drug usage and violent tendencies meant that every second was a possible break point for him. Whenever Gamzee did go off, even if nothing negative came upon the family because of it, Kurloz knew it was on him. He thanked a higher power that Gamzee had some worthwhile friends at school to assist.

Finally, Kurloz tended to stay just because of the house itself; he’d never be able to get such a secure location. The security system was nothing special, but it was the sheer knowledge of who lived there that offered more security than anyone could ever ask for. Few people ventured onto the grounds without invitation; the Makara family, the groundskeeper, who was a man that they trusted very much, the leader of the gang that the Juggalos allied themselves with, and her right-hand man. Kurloz didn’t know much about the last two, other than their codenames among the gang, Condescension and Dualscar. This made him nervous at times, but his father trusted them. To a degree.

That had to be good enough.

Kurloz was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t realize the door opened.

“It has come to my attention that you turned down a motherfuckin’ job today. Were my motherfuckin’ ears deceiving me?”

Kurloz rolled his head to see where his father was standing. “Didn’t feel like it.”

His dad stared him down for a while, trying to see if his son would back down. Kurloz didn’t change his expression.

Mr. Makara groaned. “I don’t even motherfuckin’ care.” He began to stalk off to his study. Kurloz, suddenly very curious, jumped up and followed him.

“What’s going on?”

His dad walked around to his seat behind his desk, but didn’t sit down, instead placing both hands firmly on the surface and looking up at Kurloz.

“Nothing. For the sake of all those motherfuckers involved, it better be nothing.”

~~~

The memory of his father’s words stuck with Kurloz for a long time after that. A very long time.

Some time later, Kurloz was taking some time for himself, when he received a message from another gang member. Out of the watchful eyes of both his friends and Kurloz, Gamzee had brewed some trouble for himself involving a rival gang, one of the many rivals of the Juggalos, and gotten into a shootout. He was in the hospital with a bullet wound in his leg.

Kurloz wasn’t worried about the bullet. As he rushed to the hospital, what worried him was the doctors’ tendency to regulate the drugs in Gamzee’s bloodstream, effectively making him sober.

Sober, and angry.

He pitied the nurse who would have to deal with that.

Of course, he realized when he got to Gamzee’s hospital room, that nurse would have to be Meulin. The universe played tricks like that.

Meulin and Gamzee were in the middle of an argument when he got there. He could practically hear them down the hall. Apparently, none of the other nurses had wanted to deal with it, and let the two go at each other.

Kurloz arrived to see Gamzee thrashing about on the bed, yelling obscenities. Meulin was yelling back at him, telling him to lie back and calm down, but was standing against the wall next to the bed, just out of Gamzee’s reach.

When he saw Kurloz, Gamzee started anew. “Kurbro! Can you tell this motherfuckin’ _bitch_ to-”

“Gamzee.”

One word, one call of his name, was all it took to silence the youngest Makara. He sneered, but backed off. Kurloz rarely used that tone. There’d be hell to pay otherwise.

With the spinning death machine that was a sober Gamzee Makara at bay, Meulin was able to step away from the wall. She quickly walked over to where Kurloz stood.

“Thank you,” she said, looking up at him. She started to turn away, towards Gamzee, but Kurloz stopped her. He placed one hand on her shoulder and kept her facing him.

“You’re hurt.”

He hadn’t been able to see her face when she was against the wall, but he’d just gotten a close look. There was a red mark along the left side of her jawbone, and her bottom lip was split on the left side, too. The blood was fresh, and oozing a bit onto her chin. Kurloz raised his other hand and gently touched her jaw. He cut his eyes to Gamzee.

“He hit you.”

Meulin closed her eyes at his touch. “I’m fine. It’s okay.”

Kurloz removed his hand and turned to glare at Gamzee. Meulin felt heat rise in her face and bit her lip instinctively, which ended up being a poor decision considering how it was split. She turned to the cabinets in the room and pulled out some gauze and a sanitation wipe, cleaning the wound and applying pressure to the break in the skin to stop the bleeding. When that was taken care of, she returned to the two others. Kurloz had obviously said something to Gamzee to seriously shut him up, because the latter was glaring out the window. Kurloz smiled at Meulin, and she gave him a small smile back, trying not to do anything that would pull at the skin of her lips and cause more bleeding.

Knowing what Kurloz did, she knew he understood.

“Um, we hadn’t had time to call you or your father yet to get him, but Gamzee’s good to go. He just needs to stay off of that leg for a while, but he can go home. Are you driving him?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Um, Gamzee, your clothes are in the bag in that chair. Do you need help getting dressed, or…”

Gamzee snarled. “Do I _look_ like I need help getting dressed?”

“Oh! Right. I’ll just step outside for a moment.” She did.

When Meulin went outside, Kurloz whirled on his younger brother. “You’d better be motherfuckin’ sorry for talking to her like that.”

“The fuck do I care? Hell, the fuck do _you_ care about the bitch?” Gamzee hauled himself off of the bed and hopped over to the chair, pulling clothes out of his bag. He started to awkwardly strip while standing on one foot.

Kurloz leaned forward, sneering. “Maybe if you weren’t so motherfuckin’ _pissed_ all the time, you’d know that she’s not a _bitch_ , you motherfuckin’ piece of shit.”

“Really?” Gamzee fired back. “And you know this from standin’ in the fucking room with her?”

Kurloz backed up, rolling his eyes. “She was my nurse when I was jumped, jackass.”

“You two motherfuckin’ buddy-buddy now, then?”

“Yes.”

“Uh-huh.” Gamzee sounded less than impressed. He grabbed his shirt. “What’s her name?”

“Meulin Leijon.” Kurloz looked to the door. “Not that it’s any of your motherfuckin’ business.”

Kurloz didn’t hear Gamzee’s reply, and turned to his brother after a long moment of silence. Gamzee was staring at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. Kurloz furrowed his brow.

“What?”

“Leijon?”

“That’s what I motherfuckin’ said.”

Gamzee looked to the door. “I knew she looked motherfuckin’ familiar.”

Gamzee went back to changing, and Kurloz grew irate with his brother’s lack of explanation.

“Care to elaborate?”

Gamzee sighed. “Few years back, when I was still in middle school, some sister in the grade below me died in a car crash. There was a motherfuckin’ assembly and a grief week and everything. Her name was Nepeta Leijon.”

Kurloz didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. And he had a sneaking suspicion that Meulin would find out.

~~~

Meulin wheeled Gamzee out to the parking lot while Kurloz carried the crutches under one arm. Meulin stopped herself and Gamzee on the sidewalk, signaling that Kurloz should get the car and pull it around. He did, which left Meulin alone with Gamzee.

An awkward silence presented itself, and Meulin drummed her fingers on the wheelchair handles to keep herself occupied. Gamzee just looked around, doing his best not to lash out at anybody or anything, but both found a distracting opportunity when Meulin’s phone rang.

“Do you mind if I get this?” she asked. Usually, she wouldn’t answer the phone on her shift, but one look at the caller ID told her she should. Gamzee commented that he didn’t care, so she answered the phone. The boy in the chair listened closely to what was being said.

“Hi, Horuss… What is it?... Oh, ah, no, it’s… it’s okay. I get it… No really!” By this point, Kurloz had pulled up in front of them, and he couldn’t help but eavesdrop, either, as Meulin’s tone got more and more drastic. “It’s fine. I’ll find someone else… Quit apologizing!... Okay. Talk to you soon.” She hung up and sighed.

“Everything okay?” Kurloz asked, hopping out of the car.

“Yeah…” Meulin chewed on her lip. “That was my friend Horuss. My car’s in the shop, and he was supposed to give me a ride home today, but he’s not going to be able to make it.”

“Do you… I could give you a ride, if you want.” Was that appropriate? It wasn’t like they knew each other all that well. Two hospital visits didn’t exactly create a strong friendship. But Meulin’s eyes grew wide.

“Would you mind?” She looked so hopeful.

Kurloz grinned. “Not one motherfuckin’ bit.”

“Oh!” Meulin sounded relieved. “Thank you so much! My shift gets off at seven.”

“I’ll be right here.” Kurloz waved goodbye, since Meulin had to run back inside to get back to work.

Gamzee, meanwhile, had made his way into the car without help. When Kurloz climbed into the driver’s seat, Gamzee flashed him a huge, shit-eating grin.

“Brother. You got it motherfuckin’ _bad_ for the bitch.”

Kurloz rolled his eyes. “Don’t motherfuckin’ call her a bitch.”

“Don’t change the fact that you’re in deep,” Gamzee retorted.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. I’m just giving her a ride home.”

“Sure, brother. Whatever you say…”

Kurloz sighed. He wasn’t sure if he preferred this “goading you into a relationship” Gamzee over the “sober and pissed” Gamzee.

~~~

Seven rolled around, and Kurloz pulled into the hospital parking lot. He only had to wait for a few minutes before Meulin walked out. She looked around the parking lot a few times before spotting the black SUV. The lost expression on her face transformed to one of glee, and she bounded across the parking lot and got into the car.

“Thank you so much for taking me home, Kurloz.”

“I told you,” he smiled, putting the car in gear, “It’s my motherfucking pleasure.”

Meulin giggled, but the conversation died there. Kurloz wanted to talk to her, but there wasn’t much that he could think to say that didn’t involve potentially negative content. So he stayed silent. The only time Meulin spoke to him was to tell him where to go; other than that, she kept her face turned to the window. She looked troubled.

“Is… everything okay?”

Meulin startled. “Huh? Oh. Uh…”

“You can tell me. Be honest.”

“Mmm…” she brought one hand to her mouth, beginning to nervously chew her nails. After a second, she realized what she was doing and pulled her hand away. “Sorry. Nervous habit.”

They reached a stoplight, and Kurloz turned to give Meulin his full attention, but she didn’t respond to his question in the slightest. He tried to get her attention, but she wasn’t looking at him anymore.

She didn’t say anything else until he pulled into a parking space outside of her condo. She quickly got out of the car, and he sat in the car, watching her go. He felt like this was it, though; she was hurt, upset, and if he let her go now, he didn’t think he’d ever see her again. He’d never pushed like this for somebody before. Kurloz clambered out of the car to follow her.

When she unlocked her door, Kurloz called to her.

“Meulin, wait. Please.”

“Kankri broke up with me.”

Kurloz balked. He hadn’t expected that. “Wha…”

“ _Kankri_ broke up with _me,_ and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since it happened.”

Kurloz quirked his brow. “I thought you said you wa-”

“I know, and I thought that, when we did break up, it’d be because of, work, or something. I don’t know. And I’d be the one to break up with him. But he told me,” That was when the tears started to fall. She hiccupped. “He told me that he-he’d met someone else. Somebody from one of his jobs in the city. And he didn’t want to cheat on me, so he broke it off with me before things got serious with this other guy.”

Kurloz quirked his brow again, but less out of worry than interest. “Guy?”

Meulin laughed at that, a short, but honest, laugh. “Yeah. I didn’t… I was surprised. But… this was coming. I knew it was. Right?” she looked up at him, like she was asking. “Right? I knew this was coming, but…” she choked a small sob. “Why do I still care? Why am I sad about it?”

“Because.” Kurloz didn’t know why he was saying what he was, but he went with it. “Because he’s been your anchor. Haven’t you two known each other for years? He’s always been there, more or less. And now, you don’t have that.” He bent down to her level. “But that’s okay, Meulin. You’re okay. You’ll be okay, Meulin…” Meulin suddenly pitched forward to Kurloz’s chest. He just stood there, saying soothing things to her. “You’re okay, Meulin. You’ll be okay, Meulin. Meulin, Meulin… Meulin…”

~~~

At some point, Kurloz had moved both himself and Meulin inside the door and closed it, so that they were out of the cold night air. Meulin had cried herself dry, but hadn’t moved from his chest until a while later, when she had ashamedly apologized for her actions and invited him to sit on her sofa. She’d offered to get him something to drink, but then admitted that she didn’t have any alcohol. Kurloz was tempted to bolt then, wondering about their age difference, but it turned out she was twenty, just two years his junior. She fixed him some water instead, which he took out of politeness.

They sat in silence then. Social norms imposed themselves on Kurloz’s mind, making him wonder if he should leave, if she’d take that as a sign of rejection, how long he should stay, if it was considered socially acceptable for him to stay all night.

He wanted to.

Meulin sat on the far opposite side of the sofa, feet pulled under her. She searched for something to talk about.

Kurloz’s phone rang. He took one look at the screen and put it back in his pocket.

“Um…” Meulin began.

Kurloz started, excited that she wanted to talk. “Yes?”

“If you don’t mind me asking, who was that?”

Kurloz shrugged. “A potential job. No motherfucking deal to ignore.”

“Job?” Meulin said, but then realization dawned on her. “Oh. A job.”

“Yeah.” Kurloz feared that, without something to say, there would be another silence. But Meulin started to talk again.

“How do you do it?” She wasn’t asking how, not really. Kurloz knew this. “How do you go around, doing what you do, and knowing that you could mess up and end up like you did… or worse?”

This was certainly not where he thought she was going. He thought she’d call him out on his criminal tendencies, the injustice of being in a gang, but then he remembered what she’d said to him.

_“I don’t think any less of you because of that, okay?”_

Meulin had paused, but now she started talking again. “How… to go out knowing that your next job could get you killed… Knowing that one little mistake, one slip up, and your family won’t see you again…”

“Is this about Nepeta?” Kurloz said it before he realized what was coming out of his mouth.

Meulin shot up. “How do you know about that?” Her voice cracked.

Kurloz shifted and moved closer to her. “I’m sorry… Gamzee told me. She was a year younger than him when she… hey,” he moved closer, taking Meulin’s arm. She was now fully crying again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he closed the distance between them, lightly taking Meulin in his arms. She leaned into him and pressed her face into his shoulder.

“I didn’t even see her that morning.” Everything was coming out in a rush. “I went out early, and I didn’t tell her goodbye. The last thing I’d said to her the night before was to go to bed; I was tired. I wasn’t nice. I wish I had been; if I’d known… but there’s no way I could’ve known…” she dissolved into sobs again.

Kurloz just started stroking her hair. When she started talking again, about how something so mean could be her final words to her sister, Kurloz said what he felt he needed to say.

“It’s okay” turned into “I’m here”, and he held her until she cried herself to sleep.

When she woke up the next morning, he was still there.

~~~

After a slightly awkward farewell that morning, Kurloz had gotten in his car and taken the long way home. Meulin told him she didn’t have work that day, so she didn’t need him to take her anywhere else. Not sure if that was rejection or not, Kurloz had just decided to start for the door, but she stopped him, grabbing a scrap of paper off of the kitchen counter and scribbling her number on it. He had smiled when she gave him this, and plugged the number into his phone before taking her phone and doing the same with his. She looked really happy to have exchanged this.

“And, um,” she had said, looking down, “I’m sorry about what happened last night.”

“Don’t be,” he’d reassured her. “I’ll see you around.”

That was more than half an hour ago, and only now was Kurloz finally pulling into the driveway. With any luck, he’d be able to get to his room without any interruptions.

Luck was not on his side.

When Kurloz walked through the front door, his father and brother were in the kitchen. Gamzee looked up with eyes glazed over from pot, and gave his brother an evil looking grin.

“Uh-huh…” he drew out, looking smug.

Kurloz rolled his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, nothing happened.” He hoped that the conversation would end there, but his father turned to him and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

While Kurloz didn’t want to answer the unasked question, Gamzee was all for answering for him. “Kurloz’s been getting it on with the hot nurse.”

“The nurse?” Mr. Makara said.

“I motherfuckin’ have not. She needed a ride home, so I took her the fuck home.”

“And then stayed the whole night?” Gamzee laughed.

Kurloz took a step towards his brother. “What I do with my nights is none of your motherfucking business.”

Gamzee sat forward, eyes only slightly less glazed due to his interest. “So, you bangin’ that ass?”

Kurloz shot Gamzee a look that could make plants wither. He turned away, but his father wasn’t done being interested.

“This that same motherfucking nurse that talked back to me?”

“Yeah.”

Mr. Makara didn’t say anything else. As usual, he wore an expression that implied complete boredom with life and everything it involved, but Kurloz knew that was only on the outside. Who knew what he was really thinking?

Why was everyone so damn interested in Kurloz’s love life, anyway?

~~~

Horuss had been watching Meulin strangely throughout most of their lunch that day. She’d agreed to meet him at a favorite diner, and had dressed up for the occasion in a white blouse and blue jeans. Every once in a while, she’d look up and catch his eye, but he wouldn’t venture to explain his actions. Really, he was wondering about her mood; she hadn’t seemed great the day before, or a few days before. The whole week, actually, she’d been off; both before and after the breakup. But today, she’d made a miraculous turnaround, in fact, she wasn’t upset at all. He was trying to figure out how to bring it up in casual conversation.

“So,” Horuss said after spending nearly the whole meal in silence, “Who’d you get a ride home from last night?”

Meulin looked up at him, and then immediately down at her plate. She’d wanted to talk to Horuss; this was not the conversation she wanted to have. “A furriend,” she said cryptically.

“Who?” Horuss pressed, trying not to sound too much like he was goading her, but he was eager to know who’d managed to lift her spirits in just a few hours. She saw through his ruse. She just didn’t want to tell him because she knew that he’d freak out; she may not know the name Makara at first, but he would. But she was in a tight spot. If Horuss became too suspicious, there was every possibility that this conversation would be passed to his father, who would, in turn, repeat it to her mother.

“You don’t know him,” she led in, doing her best to plant the seeds of doubt so that Horuss would spend time and thought running through his mental address book and not catch if he actually knew the person or not. “His name is Kurloz,” she added, just to sound less suspicious.

Meulin was very wrong, however. Horuss most definitely knew who Kurloz was. He put his utensils down and stared at her.

“Kurloz Makara, oldest son of Juggalo gang leader Hadeon Makara?”

“Horuss!” Meulin shrieked, knowing what he was getting at. “He’s not dangerous.”

“He’s a gang member, Meulin! And you let him take you home!”

“He’s nice!” Meulin asserted. “We’re furriends.”

“He’s just manipulating you to get what he wants.”

“Horuss, he’s seen the inside of my condo. He knows there’s nothing there worth stealing. What else could he want to take from me?”

Horuss fixed Meulin with a serious, yet disbelieving, stare. “Your body.”

There was a clang as Meulin shot up from her chair, leaning on the table and placing both hands on it. She hissed.

“Horuss Zahhak, are you insinuating that Kurloz wants to _rape_ me?”

“It’s a possibility, Meulin.”

“I can’t believe you.” Meulin’s voice was low. “Kurloz wouldn’t do that-”

“You don’t _know_ that-”

“And more importantly,” Meulin continued, “I wouldn’t _let_ him! I can take care of myself, Horuss. You don’t have to baby me.”

“I’m sorry, Meulin, but I just want you to do what’s best. You’re just out of a relationship. Don’t you think you’re going a bit fast?”

“Ugh!” Meulin let out an exasperated sigh. “I… ugh. Just stop.” Meulin sat back down. “I’m done. Thank you for lunch, Horuss.” She stood again and collected her green purse, heading for the door.

But Horuss’s words had gotten to her. That night, her dreams were nightmares, filled with him. His rough touch, hands gripping her arms and holding her so that she couldn’t get away, and she knew he could, because she was his nurse and had seen the muscles of his body. In her mind, his hand clamped over her mouth so that she couldn’t scream.

A restless night led to early morning wakefulness, so Meulin was sitting in her kitchen at four, before daylight. Her phone was in her hands, and she kept typing, erasing messages.

_Kurloz, lose my number._

_Kurloz, please don’t come see me again._

_Kurloz, do you want to rape me?_

_Kurloz, would you ever hurt me?_

_Kurloz, what do you want?_

_Kurloz, I want to ask you something._

_Kurloz, you seem nice._

_Kurloz._

Nothing was sent.

~~~

For days following the nightmare, Meulin was equal parts worried and relieved about the fact that he’d yet to contact her. Panic had set in in the beginning, as she wondered why she gave him her number in the first place. But since he wasn’t using the number, she began to wonder if he’d even wanted anything from her at all; whether or not it was of the criminal nature. These thoughts worked her into a back-and-forth mentality, and she wasn’t sure anymore of her feelings about the situation.

She almost didn’t pick up when her phone did ring after a while.

Her eyes had fallen to his name alight on her screen, and her hand hovered over it, deciding whether or not to hit answer. But her ring was coming to a close; in a few seconds, the decision would be made for her.

She battled fate.

“Hello?”

“Whtat?” The muddled voice on the other end was decidedly _not_ Kurloz. “Ho shit, shze agtually picked up!”

Meulin’s nerves were already frayed, and her grip tightened around the phone, one finger stretching across to find the “end call” button. But she stopped herself when she heard something else on the other end of the phone. Something quieter. A deeper voice.

“What the fuck? Give me my motherfucking phone, Mituna.”

“Who’s tge chick?”

“Did you call someone? Give me my phone!”

“Yeah! Zome chkick named Me-Mu-M…lin.”

Meulin couldn’t help but giggle; the situation had become comedic. It eased her nerves. The guy with the phone, apparently named “Mituna”, heard her.

“Ha! She thinkz I’m funny!”

“Mituna, I swear to God. Give me the fucking phone.”

“Nuh-uh! No way! Szhe’s my chitk now.”

Meulin could barely hear Kurloz sigh. “You’ve already got a motherfuckin’ chick, Tuna.”

Another voice chimed in, definitely female. “Yeah, Mituna!” The girl choked out an unconvincingly fake sob. “I thought I was your girl!”

Apparently, the fake crying was enough to convince Mituna, though, because there was suddenly a loud ruckus on the other end of the phone, followed by a much quieter Mituna.

“Ah, fugck! Don’t cry, Tula! I dint mean ith!”

There was another strange sound on the other end, and Meulin decided somebody was picking up the phone. Kurloz spoke, but this time, he was more audible.

“Hey. Are you still there?”

Meulin laughed. “Yeah. I’m still here.”

“Sorry about that.” She could hear the laugh in Kurloz’s voice. “Mituna needs to learn the values of personal motherfuckin’ space. But anyway, uh, how’ve you been?”

“Good.” It felt like the truth. “I’m good. You?”

“Good. So, you got any plans for the rest of the day?” Kurloz decided being forward was the best option.

“Um? No?”

“You wanna have plans?”

Meulin found his forwardness endearing. “Um… sure!”

“Good. I’m having a small motherfuckin’ get-together tonight. Do you need a ride? You get your car back?”

“I’ve got my car. Where do you live?”

Kurloz gave her his address.

“I’ll see you there, then.” Kurloz made to hang up.

“Yeah. Oh, and Kurloz?”

“Yeah?”

Meulin took a deep breath. “Is this a date?”

There was silence.

“Do you want it to be a date?” Kurloz said slowly.

“Uh…” Meulin backtracked. She couldn’t believe she’d just asked that; she wasn’t in high school anymore! She didn’t have to be this nervous around a guy!

Or maybe she did, considering her only romantic experience in her life was with Kankri.

Kurloz laughed. “Don’t you motherfucking worry, Meu. This isn’t anything you don’t want it to be.”

“O…kay. I’ll, um, talk to you later, then.”

“Bye.”

Meulin practically dropped the phone on the counter, trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. She’d definitely just been asked on a date, sort of. This whole thing was so new to her, though. She’d never had anything like this happen when she was with Kankri.

One thing was for sure. She couldn’t tell Horuss about this.

~~~

Kurloz’s house was huge, Meulin realized. A huge, sweeping manor that was two stories high, but much wider and longer than it was tall. Walking up the front steps, she couldn’t help but feel intimidated.

When she pressed the doorbell, Meulin jumped at the loud noise. She couldn’t help the nervous tremble in her body after that, and each second felt like forever. She tugged on the edge of her miniskirt. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she shouldn’t be here. Maybe Kurloz was regretting inviting her. Maybe she should just leave.

The door swung wide open, and standing behind it was a girl with two long braids and hot pink glasses.

“Hey! You Kurly’s hot piece of ass, aintcha?” the girl gave her a once-over. Meulin began to regret her choice of shirt, which was a green tank top that may, she decided, have been too low-cut. Certainly, it wasn’t anything compared to this girl’s skimpy fuchsia crop top and booty shorts, but still. “Sheeeit.”

“Meenah!” Another voice came from inside. Another girl walked out, wearing a short blue dress. She had glasses, as well. “Leave her alone. Hi,” she addressed Meulin, “I’m Aranea, and this is Meenah. You’re Kurloz’s friend, right?”

“Um… yeah,” Meulin said, feeling even more intimidated. Who were these girls? Why did one think she was Kurloz’s “hot piece of ass”? She had a sinking feeling in her gut. “I’m Meulin.”

“Hi, Meulin. Come inside!” Aranea smiled brightly. Meulin did as she was told, but she wasn’t feeling nearly as good about what was going on.

The party was apparently in the living room, where Kurloz was sitting with two other girls and one guy. The other guy and one of the girls were currently engaged in an incredibly hot-and-heavy makeout session, their hands all over each other and under each other’s’ clothes. Kurloz got up when Meulin walked in, grinning.

“Meulin. Hey.” He placed a hand on her arm. “Hey…”

“Kurloz? Are you drunk?” She sniffed the air. “Or high?”

Kurloz opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly the two were pushed over, Meulin into Kurloz, by Meenah and Aranea, who were trying to make out and walk at the same time. Meulin found herself most definitely in Kurloz’s lap, and he wasn’t moving her.

“No, actually, I’m not really. These other motherfuckers don’t have as high a tolerance…” He still wasn’t moving. If anything, she was. She guessed that being pushed down and into this slightly embarrassing situation had sapped the nerves from her momentarily. Maybe it was the pot in the air. Maybe it was something else.

Hadn’t she had nightmares about him earlier? Could the person in front of her, serving as a break to her fall, be capable of those things? She didn’t think so.

She thought, though, that she really wanted to kiss him then. That seemed to be the general mood of the party. She edged closer.

“If you two fuck, we should make threesome.”

Kurloz backed up and rolled his eyes, giving the other who was in the room girl a glare. “Fuck off, Damara.”

“Hmm?” The girl called Damara crouched down, getting really close to Kurloz. “What was that?”

Kurloz pushed her away, and Damara fell on her ass, her short, skimpy red dress riding up to her hip. She tried to make that look like another attempt to get Kurloz’s attention, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. Instead, he was helping Meulin up and leading her over to the sofa.

Damara changed tactics, strolling over to the sofa and taking her joint of her mouth. She bent over and let her cleavage show seductively, gently resting a hand on Meulin’s knee.

“Well, if Kurloz no want, maybe you do? Spare bedroom, you, me,” she dragged her fingernails lightly along Meulin’s chin and leaned to breathe on the other girl’s ear. “I show you good time.”

Meulin squirmed, uncomfortable with the situation, but steeled herself. She wanted something to happen; Kurloz had been on her mind a lot lately. Now that she was here, and he was next to her, and she couldn’t believe she ever thought he’d take advantage of her. If she wanted him to stay, though, she’d probably have to make peace with his friends, or at least be able to fit in with them.

But while she was debating this, Kurloz had already wrapped one arm around her and pulled her closer to him and away from Damara. “Leave us alone.”

Damara huffed, putting her joint back in her mouth. Meulin looked up at Kurloz, somewhat embarrassed. Kurloz shook his head.

“She’s like that with everyone. Don’t worry.” Kurloz smiled at her, noticing her uncomfortable expression. “Are you okay?” He reached out and touched a piece of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. His fingers brushed her cheek, cool against her flushed skin. His touch made her tremble, but she didn’t let herself unwind. Her nerves had definitely returned, but without a vengeance. It was probably the pot in the air.

“Hey,” Kurloz said, his smile faltering, “It’s alright. Just motherfuckin’ relax.” He stroked her arm.

She wanted to relax. She really did. But this whole thing was so new to her.

She practically jumped out of her skin when she felt somebody plop down on the sofa next to her. “Hey!”

Meulin recognized that voice; it was the girl from the phone call. “Uh… hi?”

The guy that had been attached to the as of yet unnamed phone girl came to Meulin’s other side, in front of Kurloz. “Hey, Kurzoz! Me ‘n’ Latz wannanutter beer. Go get us some?”

Kurloz rolled his eyes, a semi-amused look on his face. The guy got down on his knees, holding his hands in front of him like he was praying. “Please?”

Kurloz sighed and got up, heading to the kitchen. The guy sat down in Kurloz’s spot, turning to Meulin.

“So!” The girl said, calling for Meulin’s attention. “My name’s Latula, and that rad guy there’s Mituna. He’s my boyfriend and Kurloz’s best friend. And we need to talk to you about something.”

Both Mituna and Latula were uncomfortably in Meulin’s personal space. She pressed up against the back of the sofa.

“Now,” Latula continued, “Since Mituna’s Kurloz’s best friend, he knows practically everything about him. Reads him like a book. And so when Mituna says something about Kurloz, it’s the truth. So,” Latula indicated to Mituna, “What do you have to say?”

“Well,” Mituna took a deep breath, then leaned in. “Kurz’s totally into you. Rleally.”

Meulin felt her face burning. He was?

“And?” Latula prompted Mituna on.

“An we wanna know if yrou’re intwo him.”

“It’s okay if you’re not. We just want to know. Help things along if you are.” Latula shrugged. “Are you?”

“Um…” Meulin muttered nervously, desperately searching for an outlet. She didn’t know what to say; she hated being put on the spot like that.

“It’s simple, Meulin. Do you,” Latula spoke deliberately, “Or do you not, want to make out with him until the sun rises.”

“I’m sorry!” Meulin practically jumped. She pulled her knees into her chest and buried her face behind them. “I’m sorry, I don’t know…” she squirmed. That was a lie. “Ooh…”

Mituna and Latula waited for Meulin to come out of hiding. She did, after a moment. “… maybe.”

Mituna grinned wide. “You mite wanna haed to the kichten to get some awlone time. Before he comes back.” He placed a hand on Meulin’s shoulder and lightly pushed her up.

“ _Alooooone_ time,” Latula drawled, raising her eyebrows. Meulin took the hint, standing up and hurrying in the direction Kurloz had gone just a few minutes earlier.

The kitchen was not hard to find, as big as it was. Kurloz was standing at the island, three beers and a few boxes of pizza on the table. The pizza was hot; the delivery guy must’ve been there while Meulin was having her short conversation with Mituna and Latula. Meulin stood in the doorway for a while, chewing on her lip. What did she want from this? What did she want to happen? She studied him. The lights weren’t very bright, and the shadows across his face accentuated his features. His hair shifted slightly as he moved. She took a few steps inside, continuing to watch him. He didn’t look up until she was on the other end of the table.

“Hey.” He looked down again.

“Hi,” Meulin said quietly, going to stand right next to him. “Um…”

“I’m sorry.”

Meulin looked up, shocked. “What? Why?”

Kurloz let out a breath. “You’re not really having a good motherfucking time, are you?”

“No!” Meulin started, but then realized that he might misunderstand. “I mean, yes… I am having a good time, Kurloz. I am.” Emboldened by her need to get him to understand her, she took another step forward. “I… I just had a talk with Mituna.”

“Yeah?” Kurloz said, only now meeting Meulin’s eyes. Confused.

“He’s your best furriend, isn’t he?”

“That he is…” Kurloz trailed off, the end of his sentence upping in pitch with curiosity.

“He had some… interesting things to say.” Meulin wasn’t meaning to be coy, but didn’t know how to be direct in the matter. Now, she had his full attention. They were so close, she had to crane her neck up to see him. She didn’t; keeping her face to the level of his chest. She could determine the different stitches in his jacket. It was patterned like a skeleton.

“And what did my motherfuckin’ best friend have to say?” Kurloz’s voice broke Meulin from her daze. She slowly let her gaze travel up his body. He was looking down at her.

“He…” Meulin found it difficult to speak with him so close. She could feel the heat of his body. “He said something very… um…” She shifted her feet. She still couldn’t meet his eyes, but did he just bite his lip? “… interesting. About you…” Her hands, which she’d been knotting in her skirt, slowly rose to press against his chest. She wanted to kiss him, she realized. She took a deep breath and wished for confidence. “… and…” She tilted her head up. Kurloz bent over slightly, lifting a hand to her shoulder.

“… me…”

Kurloz’s lips were soft, and immediately, he opened his mouth to the kiss. Meulin sighed softly as she did the same, letting her fingers curl into his jacket and pull him closer. Feeling her enthusiasm, Kurloz responded in kind, bringing both of his hands to her face and pulling her as closely as possible while he slid his tongue into her mouth. He moaned in the back of his throat. Meulin pushed her hands farther so that her arms were around his neck, and so he moved his while they continued to slide their tongues together. Kurloz’s hands drifted down, lightly passing over the sides of her breasts and causing Meulin to gasp, but continuing to more purposefully wrap around her waist, where they continued their descent. Meulin was pressed as close to him as she could be.

“Whoa, buoy, you didn’t say the fuckin’ pizza was here!”

Meulin and Kurloz separated with a jump, both panting. Meulin turned around, finding Meenah standing in the kitchen doorway. She grinned at the two. Kurloz glared at her, stepping closer to Meulin, and Meulin could hear him panting as much as she was from behind her. He grabbed the boxes of pizza and walked over to Meenah, shoving them in her hands. She looked down at the box greedily, but turned her attention to the other two for just a moment.

“Just don’t fuck on the kitchen table.”

Meulin gasped at the implication while Meenah cackled, sauntering away with pizza in hand. Not daring to look back at Kurloz, Meulin tugged on the hem of her skirt, realizing that it had ridden, or quite possibly been pushed, up higher than would be decent in any other situation. She looked straight down at the ground.

Kurloz slowly approached her side, reaching around to grab her other shoulder and gently pulled her to him. He hummed questioningly. Meulin didn’t answer, but leaned into him. He led her back to the other room.

Meenah grinned at them when they came in. “Good quickie?”

Kurloz rolled his eyes and led Meulin to the sofa, which was now Mituna- and Latula- free, and he and Meulin got comfortable.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It really was a small world, and people from two completely different sides of the city's social scale keep butting heads. Chance encounters with gang members were more common than one would believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are prepared for the stupidly syrupy sweetest chapter you have ever read in your damn lives. Sorry it's a few days late, I was trying to space these to about a week and a half between updates.

Compared to their first kiss, the ones that followed on that night were pretty tame. After eating and drinking and, in some cases, smoking, their fill, everyone settled in. Meulin learned that this was a pretty common occurrence; they didn’t worry about driving when the Makaras would let them stay over. Meulin decided that they had the right idea.

She and Kurloz ended up lying on the sofa, she on top of him. As soon as they both were comfortable, Meulin had bent her head down and kissed Kurloz softly, pulling away after a few short seconds. He bent upwards as much as he could and kissed her back, doing the same. These brief kisses continued for a long time, until both decided to sleep. Meulin shimmied down so that her head was on Kurloz’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around her.

Morning brought the headaches of hangovers, but Meulin hadn’t had very much the night before. Still, the light coming through the curtains gave her a sharp pang in her head when she opened her eyes. She shut them quickly again, turning her head to bury her face in Kurloz’s jacket. She smiled, remembering the events of the previous night.

In the silence of the morning, she heard a click. Not quite startled, but curious, Meulin roused herself from Kurloz’s jacket and looked up.

Closing the door, and nearly filling the frame, Mr. Makara walked into the house. Meulin curled her fingers in the fabric, unable to force herself to move anymore. When she’d encountered him in the hospital, his sheer size had terrified her. His gruff demeanor and occupation only added to this.

He turned to her, meeting her gaze. Meulin’s breath froze in her lungs.

Mr. Makara’s ever-present apathy echoed in his movements; he lethargically looked away, heading to the kitchen. But Meulin had been watching him closely, and didn’t miss the little jerk of his head signaling that she should follow him.

She’d found some miraculous courage that first time. This time, she wasn’t so sure. But she was not about to keep such a terrible gang leader waiting.

Meulin did her best to disentangle herself from Kurloz without waking him. She scrambled off of the sofa and scurried to the kitchen, desperate to not make a poor impression by keeping Mr. Makara waiting, and tripped over her black strappy heels from the night before. She ungracefully stumbled into the kitchen, nearly running into the table. Her hair fell in her face, and she whipped it back, her face burning with the embarrassment at her clumsiness.

Her poor entrance seemingly went unnoticed by Mr. Makara, who wasn’t even looking at her. She wondered if he’d even noticed she’d come inside, but he’d had to; she’d made so much noise. Still, she didn’t really want to say anything. She knew she should, but she didn’t.

“Food’s in the fridge.” Mr. Makara’s deep voice startled Meulin; she nearly jumped. “And in the pantry. Help yourself.”

“Ah-ah, okay…” she mumbled, “Thank you.”

Meulin still didn’t move, though. If Mr. Makara had called her to the kitchen, wouldn’t he have wanted to tell her something? The large man fixed himself a coffee, and she just stood at the table, not wanting to move.

He sat at the table and sipped his coffee black, taking his time before looking over at Meulin again.

“Kurloz is a motherfucking paramount gang member.” Meulin looked up at him. He wasn’t meeting her gaze, but his voice in itself commanded attention. “He’s reluctant, but a great motherfucking influence on everyone else. And since he’s my son, as well, he’s,” Now, he looked at her. “A target. Getting involved makes you a target, too.”

Meulin didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t fear that kept her from speaking this time.

“Becoming involved with Kurloz means that you’ll be on the radar of every motherfucking gang out there as a potential way to gain motherfucking leverage. They _will_ know you.”

The intent of his words became clear to her.

“Thank you for your concern, but I can take care of myself, Mr. Makara.”

The large man stood, his eyes narrowing. “Are you motherfucking _sure_ about that?”

“Dad.”

Mr. Makara raised his gaze from Meulin, looking over her head. She turned, too, shocked to hear the voice, but she knew who it was. Kurloz stood in the doorway, head bowed slightly and eyes glaring at his father. He walked forward until he was right behind Meulin, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close.

“Why are you all up and saying that motherfucking shit to her?”

“Because it is the motherfucking _truth,_ son.” Mr. Makara said firmly. “You be sure to remember that.”

With that, Mr. Makara stood and left the room.

Meulin’s nerves relaxed significantly as soon as he was gone. She relaxed into Kurloz’s hold for a moment, leaning back against him.

She knew about his gang business. She knew he was dangerous. She hadn’t realized until now that, yes, being associated with him would put her in danger as well. But then, if they were going to see them together, those supposed other gangs would have seen them already, either when they went to lunch or when he took her home. Meulin had tiptoed her way around these things before, playing it safe and hanging back, avoiding trouble. But now, she had a choice to make. Her relationship with Kankri had ended not long ago, and she may have been jumping too early into a new relationship, but she’d reached a point where she was on her own in her decision. Sink or swim. Stay or go.

Meulin placed a hand over Kurloz’s, which was still around her waist. She pushed his hand down, away from her, and turned.

Kurloz supposed he knew what was coming. He couldn’t have expected her to stay, not after what his father had said. He closed his eyes for a moment, sighing, and stepped back a little bit.

But Meulin stepped forward.

“I don’t care.” She frowned, looking down for a moment, before meeting his now open eyes. “No, that’s not right. I care. I just…” She put her hands up to his neck, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “I want to. If you do, I do.”

“I…” Kurloz didn’t know what to say. He’d been expecting a gentle, nervous letdown. But his mouth didn’t completely fail him in that moment; he may not have been able to speak, but he could lean down and kiss her.

~~~

More than anything, Meulin wanted to talk to somebody.

Whenever something big happened in her life, she tended to run straight to Horuss and blab everything, but she and Horuss weren’t really on speaking terms at that very moment.

Part of her wished they were, so she could go see him, but another part rationalized that Horuss did not approve of Kurloz. Horuss didn’t usually take such a strong opposition to Meulin’s choices; that was something that worried her. Kurloz was a good guy, really, but Horuss just wasn’t going to see it her way, was he?

Meulin frowned at herself in the mirror. She was in the middle of changing out of her clothes from the night before. Her makeup had smudged from sleep, much to her horror; Kurloz, though, hadn’t told her. She wondered if he really noticed. Meenah had, when she woke up, and had commented about Meulin’s “raccoon eyes”.

Meulin turned on the sink and splashed some water on her face, washing away the makeup, before quickly stripping down and hopping in the shower. She turned the water as hot as it would go and let the bathroom fill up with steam. While she stood under the burning stream, she thought. She stayed still until her skin was red from the heat, trying to decide what to do.

She decided, once she washed and stepped out of the shower, to call Horuss. This wasn’t just about Kurloz. She wasn’t going to jeopardize her friendship over something like this.

She wrapped a towel around herself and sat on her bed, pulling out her phone and dialing the number. She gnawed on her lip as she waited for him to pick up.

It didn’t take long.

“Meulin! I’m glad to hear from you; I meant to call you earlier. I’m afraid we didn’t part on the best of terms last week, and I have loathsomely let my pride get in the way of apologizing. Allow me to now; I am awfully sorry for…” Meulin smiled as Horuss went on and on about how sorry he was. He overreacted like this a lot; she knew to let him finish before starting in on her own apologies. It happened; they both said what they needed to say, and then fell into a silence.

“Meulin?” Horuss asked. “Is there something you wanted  to talk about? You’re quiet, which is really-”

“I went to see Kurloz last night.”

Meulin immediately hung up the phone and slammed it down on the mattress. No, that was most definitely _not_ how that was supposed to go. She picked up the phone again and looked at the screen, wondering if she’d really hung up, or if Horuss would call her back, but the screen was blank, and she threw it on the bed again.

She couldn’t change the past, though. What was done was done. Meulin lay down and flipped on her stomach, screaming into her pillow.

~~~

In a few minutes, she had to get up. Meulin startled when she heard her doorbell ring. She shot out of bed and pulled on some clothes, rushing to the door because she _knew_ who was going to be there.

She opened the door to let in what she expected to be a very displeased Horuss. What she got was a little bit different.

“Meulin!” Horuss grabbed her arms. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

“No, no,” Meulin assured him, “He didn’t hurt me! Horuss, I’m okay.”

“What happened?” He led her over to the sofa to sit, but Meulin felt that he was the one who needed to sit down, not her.

“Horuss, calm down. I’m fine. I just spent the night, and-”

“Spent the night?” Horuss’s face held an expression of panic for a moment before slipping into something more serious. “Meulin,” he leaned forward, “Did he _do_ anything?”

“No! OMG, Horuss. He had furriends there. We were in a group. _Nothing bad happened_. We’re… I think we’re in a relationship now?”

Horuss regarded her with wary eyes for a long time, and Meulin could feel herself start to sweat under his gaze.

“Meulin, I just want what’s best for you. I-”

Meulin leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her best friend. “I know, Horuss,” she said into his shirt. “I know, but you’ve got to let it go. You’re my purreatest furriend, and I love you. And I pay attention to what you say. But you’ve always been such a big infurluence in my life, and I need to do things without you there to tell me where to go.”

“I haven’t-”

“You have, and I don’t need you to-”

“Meulin.” Horuss pushed her away gently, but kept holding onto her shoulders. “I haven’t. You’ve never let me. And I’m not going to now.” He smiled briefly, but his face fell once again. “Kurloz Makara is dangerous, and I’m afraid that you’re rushing too quickly into things. But if you’re going after him, I won’t be able to stop you. I trust you, anyway, to be able to tell if things get too bad.”

Meulin was at a loss for words. He was right, in a way; she did usually listen to what he said, but didn’t always take his opinion as advice. It did hold weight with her; when she did something he told her not to, she would feel guilty about it, but that didn’t always stop her. Horuss was constantly looking out for her, being that overhanging shadow that pointed her the right way, whether she wanted to be directed or not.

But now, that shadow was gone. Horuss was voluntarily backing off. She had his blessing, even though she didn’t need it, and that was the most liberating thing she’d ever felt. She threw herself into his arms again.

“Thank you, Horuss! Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!”

Horuss let himself be hugged, chuckling a bit. Meulin was so happy with him, so he didn’t even let himself think of what would happen if he was wrong.

~~~

Though most of the guests had left, Mituna and Latula remained in Kurloz’s company. Rather, Latula did, because Mituna was known for sleeping well into the next day and he was her ride home.

She sauntered, since Kurloz decided that what she was doing was definitely sauntering, into the kitchen with Mituna’s shirt on like it was a trophy. Given the couple’s history, Kurloz didn’t have to guess about what they’d been up to. But at this current moment, Latula seemed less concerned with her own endeavors and more concerned with Kurloz’s.

“Hey, Kurloz.” She leaned on the counter. “How was last night?”

Kurloz didn’t say anything. Latula liked to talk, so if there was something she wanted to tell him, the best way was to just let her say it.

“With Meulin, you know?” Bingo. “She seemed a little up-tight at the beginning, but she really loosened up, didn’t she? After a little, ahem, push in the right direction. I mean, I wouldn’t know, I was too busy with Tuna, but from what I heard… She really warmed up to you.” Latula raised a knowing eyebrow.

“First, whatever Meenah told you is most definitely motherfucking exaggerated. And if it involved the kitchen table, it was a motherfucking lie. Second,” Kurloz couldn’t help the smile that came to his face, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” That ended the conversation, and nothing else was said until Mituna walked in, dressed only in his underwear.

“Digd you fkuck or what?”

~~~

A few days passed.

The debacle with Meulin was pushed to the back of Horuss’s mind. They had made up. There was nothing more to it. Right?

That was what Horuss thought. But then, with the arrangement that he had come to with himself, that he wouldn’t interfere in Meulin’s relationship, he never expected to actually interact with the other half of that relationship.

That being said, Horuss knew who Kurloz was. Horuss could spot him in a crowd.

Or, in the damn supermarket.

Horuss stopped when he turned into another aisle, recognizing the skeleton-themed Juggalo immediately. He couldn’t help his suddenly stony demeanor; he threw his coldest glare.

Kurloz remained oblivious for a moment, clearly too consumed in what cereal to buy, but he did realize eventually. He scowled immediately.

“You got a motherfuckin’ problem?”

Horuss sized up his situation. Kurloz had height, sure, and probably a lot of lean muscle, but Horuss worked out, was a bodybuilder, and wasn’t about to lie down in a fight. But he didn’t want to fight.

So he walked.

He broke eye contact with Kurloz and walked past him, almost as if he were going to continue on his way.

“I don’t.” He stopped just behind Kurloz, barely turning his head. “But I will if anything happens to Meulin.”

Horuss never got to see Kurloz’s face following that statement, but he figured the shock would’ve settled in. Kurloz probably looked horrified.

He was right.

~~~

Meulin didn’t hear much from Kurloz the following few days. That suited her fine; she had work to get back to.

She was a little disappointed when she caught another day off and didn’t get a message from him, but didn’t let that get her down too much. Instead, she spent the day pampered, thanks to a chance encounter.

“Meulin?”

She turned from her spot in line at the deli to locate the voice that was calling her. Behind stood a woman much taller than Meulin, dressed in a very stylish black dress with long sleeves and a voluminous skirt. Her hair fell to her shoulders and was expertly flipped, and she had a number of gold piercings on her face.

Meulin’s eyes lit up. “Porrim!”

The taller, more graceful woman smiled at her friend’s eagerness. “It’s good to see you, Meulin. How have you been?”

“Good! I’ve been good.”

Porrim nodded. “That’s good. I heard about the split, between you and Kankri. I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh! Don’t be. It’s okay.”

“That’s good to hear.” At that point, Meulin was next in line. She placed her order quickly and then waited by Porrim while the other girl placed her own order. Hers was considerably larger.

“I’m getting lunch for everyone at the shop,” she explained.

“That looks like a lot. Do you need help carrying it?”

“That’s very kind of you.”

Porrim and Meulin gathered equal portions of the food and toted it the short distance to Porrim’s shop. The other various employees, familiar with Meulin due to Porrim’s connection with Kankri, greeted her like a friend. Meulin wound up staying much longer than she thought she would have. A slow business day lent to Porrim’s willingness to usher Meulin into whatever outfit she could, regardless of extravagance. In fact, the tall woman’s eagerness to do so was only heightened by Meulin’s slight slip of the tongue when the other employees had left, when Porrim sent them away due to lack of business that day.

When Porrim showed her a few flashier outfits, Meulin let out; “Purrobably better than what I wore the other night.”

“Hm?” Porrim let both garments fall to her sides. “What happened the other night?”

Meulin immediately looked away. “Nothing!”

“Oh?” Porrim grinned knowingly. She gently laid both garments down on one of the chairs in the boutique and returned to Meulin, urging her into another chair. “Come on, dear, you can tell me! Who’s the lucky guy? Or,” she quirked a gold pierced eyebrow, “Girl?”

“Guy,” Meulin said after a minute, her face flushed. “He’s… um…” she brought both hands to her mouth. “Please don’t fureak out on me, okay? Because Horuss already did, and I know what I’m doing!”

“Who you choose to date is your own business, Meulin. I promise I won’t disapprove.” Porrim smiled softly.

“Well,” Meulin said, “It’s, uh, K… Kurloz Makara.”

“Oh. That’s… quite interesting. I didn’t know you even knew the Makaras.”

“From the hospital. That’s where I met him.”

“And how long has this been going on?”

“Um… just a few days, it’s been official. I guess?”

“You guess?” Porrim stood, walking quickly over to one rack of clothes. “Now, that won’t do at all. What did you two do, hm?”

“Mog!” Meulin squealed into her hands. “Stop! Nothing like that happened!”

“Oh, Meulin, Meulin, Meulin…” Porrim came back to sit next to her friend, embracing her. New garments were strung across her arms. “I can help with that.”

Meulin pulled away and gave Porrim an incredulous look, but Porrim took no notice by tossing one dress in Meulin’s face. “Try this on.”

Meulin eyed the clothing warily, but Porrim just continued to urge her. She slipped inside a fitting room and pulled the dress on. It was strapless, black, sleek, with a dark purple ribbon under the skirt, giving the whole outfit just a splash of color. It was short, too. Meulin was almost embarrassed to look in the mirror, but was completely blown away by what she saw.

She looked hot.

“Come on out, let me see my work,” Porrim called, and Meulin obliged. The taller girl beamed when her handiwork was unveiled.

“You’re gorgeous, dear.” Porrim knelt in front of Meulin, taking the hem of the dress in her hand. “Though, I do think that we could replace this with another color. A green, maybe, to compliment your eyes…”

The bell at the front of the shop rang, signaling a customer. Meulin nonchalantly glanced up and immediately squeaked, backing away from Porrim and darting into the dressing room. She pressed herself up against the mirror, heart pounding.

The customer was Mr. Makara.

The last thing Meulin wanted at that moment was to have another confrontation with that man, especially after their previous encounter had ended on such a sour note. As soon as she had her breathing under control, she started paying attention to what was being said outside the dressing room.

“…your coat tailored?”

“Mended. There’s a hole in the arm.” There was a rustle of fabric.

“I see,” Porrim’s voice was cool. “I’ll have to cut out these burn marks here, as well, but I have some spare fabric in the back that’s the same. Mending this should be no trouble. If you’ll take a seat, I’ll be back in just a moment with the fabric, just to make sure that it’s to your liking.”

Silence. The sound of heels on tile.

 _No!_ Meulin wanted to punch the wall. _No, no, no! Don’t leave, Porrim!_ She was sure that Mr. Makara knew she was in the dressing room, avoiding him. She knew that she only had two options; hide out like a coward, or face him. Meulin sighed quietly and at least started shrugging out of the dress and back into her normal clothes. She waited another few minutes, but Porrim was apparently taking her sweet time fetching the fabric. Escape was the only option, unless Meulin wanted to hide out for an indeterminate amount of time. She didn’t. So she took a deep breath to steel herself, and then did her best to stroll confidently out of the dressing room.

She was surprised to find herself alone and breathed a sigh of relief, but it was cut short when she caught sight of him at the front of the shop. He wasn’t facing her.

What should she do? Should she leave? She needed to pay for the dress, if she could even afford it, or she could put it back. But which rack did it come from?

While Meulin was asking these things of herself, Mr. Makara turned to face her.

“Hello, Meulin.”

“Um! Hi, Mr. Makara…” Meulin was a little too nervous and couldn’t meet his eyes. The large man cleared his throat.

“It has come to my motherfucking realization that I should apologize for my words to you the other day.”

Meulin bit her lip. She hadn’t been expecting that, not at all. “Oh! It’s okay, really. I understand why you said it, I do.” She decided to hazard a glance to his face. “But that’s not going to change anything. I want you to know that.”

Mr. Makara raised an eyebrow. Meulin began to wonder if that was the only facial expression he possessed the capacity to display. “That was pretty motherfucking clear given the outfit you’ve got there.”

Meulin remembered that she was still holding onto the black dress. She grew hot from embarrassment.

“That’s not-I mean, Porrim just-”

“I did what, now?” Porrim returned from the back room. She looked between Mr. Makara and Meulin. The opportunity arose to mend the situation for her friend.

“Meulin, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Take the dress on with you-don’t interrupt me, Meulin, it’s rude-take the dress on with you, and I’ll ring it up and send you the bill when I’m done with Mr. Makara’s coat. Okay? Okay. Off with you…” she shooed Meulin away.

Meulin was left wondering if she’d patched things up with Mr. Makara at all.

~~~

The following week brought little communication and many patients, and by the time her days off came around, Meulin was ready. She slept until lunch on the first day and didn’t get out of bed until she decided to fix herself some food. Horuss came by in the afternoon and the two had some much-needed time together, finally mending the last cracks of their argument.

Horuss left after a few hours, just before dinner, and Meulin had a sneaking suspicion he was heading out on a date of his own, but she didn’t bring it up yet. Instead, she settled in for what she believed was going to be a quiet night at home.

But her thoughts began to stray, and soon she gave into the temptation, grabbing up her phone.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.”

Meulin giggled softly at the sound of his voice. “Hi.”

“What’s my kitten all up to tonight?”

“Well,” Meulin fidgeted with her hair. “Um… Nothing. That’s really why I was calling… What are you up to?”

“Eh, I’ve got some friends coming over, those same motherfuckers from last time. You told me a few days ago how tired you were, so I didn’t want to motherfucking disturb your rest. But, if you do want to come over, you know it’d make my day.”

~~~

When Meulin showed up that night, she found the gathering to consist of the same people as the previous one. Once again, she was the last to arrive, but this time, was not greeted by anything considered loud, boisterous, or scantily clad. She let herself into the house and immediately saw that this party was going to be much more low-key. It was already pretty late, but nobody was making out or trying to get in someone’s pants. Meulin’s gaze flitted over to Damara for just a brief second before taking note of the seating arrangement. Everyone was sitting in a circle, a glass in front of them. There was a pitcher and an empty glass in the middle. Kurloz motioned for her to sit next to him, and when she did, he grabbed the extra glass and pitcher of beer, pouring her some. Meulin didn’t quite know what was going on, but Meenah quickly filled her in.

“We’re playin’ “neva have I eva. My idea.”

Meulin’s mouth twisted to the side. “Never have I ever” was a pretty juvenile game, really for middle or high schoolers, but, the more she thought about it, the more she figured it would be interesting with two confirmed gang members and a cast of other unruly characters in the ranks. She’d probably end up being the most boring person there, but that might not be a bad thing.

“Okay!”

Aranea drummed her fingers on her glass. “It’s my turn. Never have I ever…” her eyes roamed the circle, “Had to tie my cell mate to the bars to keep her off of me.”

Meulin’s eyes widened when both Meenah and Damara took a drink. Clearly, either she’d missed the part where everyone played with generic situations and arrived only when people were making personal digs, or there was never the beginning part in the first place. These people were playing to win a drinking game.

She realized she was at a severe disadvantage.

Damara was next, and she didn’t think long before saying, “Never I have ever beat someone with bong.”

Kurloz and Meenah both drank. As soon as Kurloz was done, he took his turn.

“Never have I ever chased a man down the street naked.”

Damara flipped him off while she drank.

Meulin was struck by the realization that she had to come up with something. She chewed on her lip, hands twisting in her shirt, and after a few minutes of silence, offered a feeble;

“Can I pass?”

Aranea opened her mouth to say something, but Meenah lunged at her and hissed something in her ear.

“Alright, fine, but there’s a penalty.” Meenah whispered in Aranea’s ear again. “Next time, you drink double.”

Meulin nodded, feeling pretty safe that nothing they said would ever apply to her. Mituna was on her other side, and took his turn.

“Nevrr haf I eyr dated someone fer more tan two yers.”

“Tuna, you dummy, you’re supposed to say it the other way around,” Latula said, smiling and shaking her head as she threw her drink back. Realization dawned on Mituna, and he drank a little before throwing himself on Latula, apologizing and making out. Obviously, Latula would not be taking her turn.

Meulin was the only other one who drank to what Mituna had said.

“Whale? Gill, you had a man before Spooky K over there?”

“Um… yes.”

“How long?”

Kurloz frowned at Meenah, but she paid him no mind.

Meulin shifted her position slightly. “Fur years.”

Meenah let out a low whistle. “Damn.” Her turn was next, though, and she gave Meulin the most devilish look she could muster.

“Whale then… Neva have I eva…” she paused for effect, “ _Not_ had sex.”

Meulin worked the sentence and the negatives in her head, realizing that yes, unfortunately, it applied to her. Slowly, she raised her glass to her lips and took two long sips.

Meenah burst out laughing, forcefully enough that she wound up rolling on the floor. Meulin didn’t know what was so funny until she turned to Kurloz. She meant to ask him, but his expression was all the explanation she needed.

He stared at her, eyes wide and skin completely pale. Before she could ask what was wrong, he stood and left the room.

She was a little upset by this, since nobody would tell her what was going on. Meenah, the instigator and the peacekeeper, crawled over to her, still laughing, and leaned on her.

“Gill, you still a virgin? Don’t worry. Kurly’s gonna take _reel_ good care of you.”

Meulin was suddenly very uncomfortable with her situation. She wanted to push Meenah away. Her face burned when she realized that all eyes were on her.

“Wade a minute. You had a buoy for _how_ many years?” Meenah asked when the idea dawned on her, “Four? An’ you two neva did the-”

“No!” Meulin nearly shrieked.

“Meenah…” Aranea’s tone was one of warning.

“Hey!” Mituna broke apart from Latula for a moment. “Where’d Kurloz go?”

“He bolted when he found out Meu here’s still a virgin.”

Mituna scowled and separated himself completely from Latula to give himself leverage and aim a good kick to Meenah’s side. She didn’t care.

“Fguck off Mneenah.”

“Is it really… that big of a deal?” Meulin knotted her hands in her shirt.

Her inquiry was met with mostly “No”’s, the only “Yes”’s coming from Meenah, jokingly, and Damara, seriously.

“Imma go talkoo him.” Mituna hopped up and headed towards where Kurloz went. Meulin stared after him, chewing her lip with worry. Aranea crawled across the circle and sat next to her.

“That might be a conversation you’ll want to listen in on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the stupidly syrupy sweetest chapter you've ever read in your damn lives, because that's as cute as it gets. Reintroducing the plot in Chapter 4.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Issues are resolved and more arise. Minor NSFW content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it should stand to mention that the last two sections of this chapter were written at 11 after a grueling day of basketball. Take of that what you will.

The sink was running cold. Kurloz gripped the edges and stared at his reflection, his skin still pale. The bathroom door was open, and Mituna just walked in.

“Dude. What the fuck wazzat?”

“Fuck off, Mituna. You don’t get it.”

“Neither does Meulin. You’re relly fucking up wit all thes mixed singlals.”

Kurloz let out a long breath. “Tuna…”

“So what if sze’s a virgin?”

Kurloz bowed his head. “I ain’t a good guy, Tuna. Druggy gang members don’t get the good girls. The virgins. That’s fucked up. I don’t wanna fuck that up.”

“You’re about to,” Mituna scoffed. “Waht does it matter, bro? If she likes you and you like her, that should be it, right?”

“I didn’t know… Look, I met a friend of hers the other day, right? Big guy. Strong. Didn’t even catch his name, motherfucker just told me how shit would be ‘if anything happened’ to Meulin. I didn’t think he meant… Fuck.” He sank into a crouch, holding onto the sink for support. “I don’t wanna fuck this up.”

“Wlel then,” Mituna cocked an eyebrow to Kurloz’s bent form, “Whzat do you wnant?”

“I… Her.” Kurloz let out a shaky laugh and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, this motherfucker is in deep, right?”

~~~

When Meulin heard this, something inside her jumped. Without knowing what she was doing, she threw herself in front of the doorway.

Mituna looked up. “What the-”

He was interrupted by the sound of Kurloz clambering into a standing position, fully turned towards Meulin. He moved forward to say something, but she beat him to it by throwing herself into his arms, and she silenced him by kissing him.

That was one way to resolve the issue.

~~~

The next few days found Kurloz on Cloud Nine. Meulin was indisputably his, they’d talked out their issue, and, if anything, the revelation that she was, in fact, still a virgin, and the fact that they were both okay with this, had made her a bit more adventurous with their endeavors. Kurloz certainly wasn’t complaining there.

Associating himself with her also served, he found, to affect his “job”. On this particular day, he was walking on air while journeying to meet with Damara. These meetings were nothing more than formalities lately; he hadn’t taken a job in nearly a month. Not since he first turned down that job after meeting Meulin for lunch. He basically would walk into her room, tell Damara he wasn’t taking the job, and then walk out.

But this meeting was different from the start, he found. Firstly, straightaway upon entering Damara’s room, Kurloz found a supreme lack of flirtation directed his way. Instead, Damara’s attention was directed elsewhere.

Kurloz stood in silence for a minute before Damara looked his way, what was supposed to be a seductive smile straining her face. When she spoke, her voice held the lilt that it must have held for typical customers when she spoke one of her rehearsed lines.

“Won’t you take a seat?”

Kurloz was immediately on guard, but did as he was told. This was wrong; Damara wasn’t supposed to treat him like a customer. Not even when he was taking a job; Damara just never treated him that way. But now, she was sashaying over to him and settling in his lap. Their proximity let Kurloz see everything in her eyes: caution, worry, apology.

“About that job tomorrow night…” She pressed up against him and kissed him forcefully.

He was tempted to push her away, but in the moment of shock that followed the kiss, she wrapped her hands behind him and moved her head to his neck. Never again did he feel her lips though; instead, he felt her words.

“They watch.”

Kurloz didn’t know quite what was meant by that. Damara shifted her position-what must it look like from the outside? Did it look like a lap dance?-and spoke again.

“They tire of apathy. Can not refuse job. Consequences.” Her next words came out as a harsh whisper. “Threaten. And…” but then, she stopped. Had Kurloz been able to see her, he would’ve seen her bite her lip with worry. Damara, who played the neutral party, protected by her connections and lack of, was worried.

Kurloz almost didn’t catch the address and time that she whispered to him then, neither was he paying attention nor could he really focus on what she was saying when the next thing she did was begin kissing him. He didn’t stop her. He knew.

There was none of Damara’s usual seductiveness in her actions. There was nothing but rough, stiff movements as the two of them played out whatever shitty act they had to as to not tip their hand.

~~~

Meulin yawned and rubbed her eyes. The caffeine from her late-afternoon coffee had yet to kick in. She was sitting in a common room-type area, where the nurses tended to gather during shift lulls. The room was empty, save for her, and that was how she liked it.

She barely registered the sound of other footsteps walking into the room. They stopped, then continued forward. After a moment, they retreated again. Meulin only happened to look up after that, and was met with what might be considered an unpleasant surprise.

Her brain then told her; _There was just someone in here_.

She left her coffee on the table and rushed out of the room. Another nurse was walking away, one whose handwriting she recognized. She called out to him, and he turned.

“Why’d you write me up for the patient in room 216?”

The nurse looked nervous, shuffling his feet. “It’s a gang member, Meulin. You know… You’re better with them…” He hurried away.

Meulin sighed. She did have a reputation now. They’d always call her for the gang cases. She supposed there wasn’t much that could be done about it. So she resigned herself to gathering this person’s charts and heading to his room.

“Hello, Mr…” she read the name as she walked into the room. “Ampora, I’m going to be your new nurse. Scheduling called for a staff shuffle, and I’m sorry if this inconveniences you in any way.” She looked up from her paper. She had become talented at stifling her reactions.

He looked bad.

Cronus Ampora, as the information said, was covered in bandages. These bandages were hers to change, and she found that underneath, he looked like he’d been through a woodchipper. Few parts of him were touched, one part being a good portion of his face.

But upon Meulin entering the room, Cronus threw up a hand to cover his face. “Don’t look at me, babe, I’m hideous.” His voice held an interesting lilt… was that laughter?

Meulin didn’t feel it to be her place to ask what had happened, but when she did get about to changing his bandages, Cronus was full of conversation.

“Look like shit, yeah? Believe me, I know. Shit. I mean, they just fuckin’ tore into me. Complete bullshit. I’m lucky to be alive.” He frowned. “Nah, he wouldn’t’ve actually killed me. But damn, they still opened me up.” This sort of monologue went on for a while, until Meulin finally found the audacity to ask.

“Who did this?”

“Ah-” Cronus looked away then, an awkward smile on his face. “My dad.”

Meulin jumped up. “What?”

“Yeah… Let’s just say I didn’t wanna go into the “family business”, and the old man didn’t take to well to that.”

“That’s horrible!”

“S’not really. Finally gotten out of Dad’s shadow, y’know? Got my freedom. This was the price? So what?”

Meulin still found his situation sad. “Don’t you have anyone, then?”

“Mom’s long dead. I’ve got a little brother in high school, lives with Dad. And some friends.” He looked down, almost nervously. “And… a boyfriend.”

Meulin wondered if he thought she’d be against that. She wasn’t; she was just happy that he had people looking out for him.

When she stood to leave, needing to make other rounds, Meulin nearly ran into someone else, a person who came bursting through the door, calling Cronus’s name worriedly. Meulin was met with a familiar voice and a familiar face when the person who slid to a halt in the doorway was none other than Kankri Vantas.

There was a prolonged pause. Meulin looked at Kankri, then at Cronus. The two boys looked at each other, and then her. At the same time, they all spoke.

“Oh.”

~~~

The address was a dive bar on the west end of town. The time was damn near midnight. Kurloz wasn’t stupid. He and arrived packing heat, preparing for whatever company would be awaiting him.

He didn’t need it, he found, when he was not met by a rival gang or other dastardly crew, but rather by Damara herself and Meenah. The hand that had moved to his gun now rested at his side; Kurloz knew he could let his guard down. He and Meenah were just too seasoned; any threat hidden from Kurloz would have been signaled to him. Meenah was tense, but not in that way. She looked nervous.

“Siddown.” She motioned to the barstool next to her. The three of them were at one end, so Damara was sitting next to the wall. Meenah signaled the bartender to bring them all drinks, and then shot him her best “get outta my sight” look. This was to be a private conversation.

“We got some… kinda… _distressin’_ news, ya hear me?”

“What does any of this have to do with me?” Kurloz said bluntly, taking a sip of his beer.

“Cod, shut the fuck up. I’m gettin’ to it. Here’s the thing, yo.” Meenah looked him dead in the eye. “Remember Eridan?”

Kurloz cast his eyes upward. Memories were faint; some hipster motherfucker with a stupid fucking dye job. Not really gang material, just like Meenah’s younger sister, Feferi. Kurloz recalled…

“Didn’t he run away or some shit?”

“Ran off. Got his wimpy ass dragged back, but at a cost to his dad. Figured it was comin’, I mean, the whole breaking off thing. Would’ve made a shit leader, ya feel me? Like Mom with Fef, yeah, how we know she’s not going to do much for us, so why make her at all?”

“Eridan backed out?”

“Dam straight he did. But that’s not what’s important. Li’l Eri may have been a wimp, but Cronus… You remember Cro. Whole different story. Kid had promise.”

Kurloz certainly didn’t miss the past tense. “Had?”

Meenah sighed. “Met someone a couple of months ago. ‘Parently, Cro’s found a guy who means enough to him that he’d decide to back out, too. He tried, anyway.” Meenah took a long, slow sip. “Been threatenin’ to for a while, I know. Makin’ a fuckin’ mess of Dualscar, makin’ him think that he’s got no heir to his supposed throne.” She snorted. “Guy ain’t got shit. Fuck, I _wish_ Cro’d stay, just to kick his sorry-ass dad out. But waterever.”

Kurloz knew enough about Dualscar. Time and again, his father would come home grumbling about Dualscar’s arrogance and the like, how the guy needed to “shut his motherfuckin’ trap while he’s still got a trap to motherfuckin’ shut”.

He looked to Meenah, waiting for her to continue.

“Guy’s got a superiority complex, y’know. Thinks he’s bigger than he is. So when Cro started to back out, Dualscar flipped, I guess. Been making all sorts of threats, tryin’a increase his ranking. Secure a higher spot on the totem pole. But last night… things came to a head. Cro officially told his dad where he could shove it, and things didn’t go too well, but Dualscar’s got the message, now.”

“Yeah.” Kurloz understood. His own dad’s actions in past weeks suddenly made sense. If Dualscar was trying for a power play, that explained a lot.

“Dualscar insist you take job.” Damara spoke for the first time. Kurloz noticed her staring intently at her drink. “He angry with you. Force you because Highblood won’t.”

“Not his motherfucking decision.”

“Already taken job. No back out.”

That was true. Kurloz couldn’t quit a job like that now.

“Why didn’t you motherfucking tell me?”

“He force me, too. Threaten me. Threaten sister.”

“You see?” Meenah said. “We’ve got a problem on our hands. While he’s doing this, nobody’s safe. He’s gonna do whatever it takes to come out on top.”

~~~

Meulin thanked her lucky stars that she didn’t have to go into work the next day. She hadn’t slept much the night before, going over and over her interaction with Kankri in her mind. She slept later than normal, nearly 10, but was just waking up when her phone buzzed. She rolled over in her bed and grabbed the device. She had a text from Kurloz.

_WHAT ARE YOU DOING TODAY?_

_(^_ _・_ _ω_ _・^) NOTHING! WHY?_

_ARE YOU AT HOME?_

_(=^ω^=) YUP!_

_I’LL BE THERE IN TEN._

Meulin, still sleepy, didn’t quite register the message of the last text until a few minutes later, when she jumped out of bed with a squeal and rushed to the bathroom, freshening up. She washed her face and brushed her teeth but didn’t have time to change out of her pajamas before she heard the doorbell ring. She figured her pajamas were cute enough, so no harm, no foul.

When she opened the door, Kurloz didn’t seem to mind, either. He loped through the doorway and bent to give her a quick kiss before strolling to her kitchen and putting down a few bags he had in his hand. Meulin followed.

“What’s this?”

Kurloz smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and he was sure not to meet her gaze. “Just wanted to spend some time with you.”

Meulin snaked her arms around his torso and beamed up at him. “That’s sweet of you!” she gushed. However, she hadn’t missed his hesitation and his inability to look her in the eyes. She stowed the thought away for later, though, and chose instead to spend her time with Kurloz without distractions.

She decided to forego eating breakfast in exchange for cooking up a mess of food with Kurloz throughout the day. Most of their cooking experiments were failures, and these failures were often messy, and food on bodies led to mouths on bodies, which, of course, led to many, many sloppy makeouts.

The food that was made correctly was put on the coffee table, and the two sat on Meulin’s sofa in front of the television and watched whatever was on while they ate. When they weren’t eating, they were continually making out. Meulin enjoyed the attention, but regarded Kurloz carefully. There was something rough in his movements. Harsh.

Kurloz had pulled her atop him, lying back on the sofa. He kissed her frantically, hands roaming. Meulin returned in kind, gradually letting her fingers slip under his shirt. She pushed it up, dragging her fingernails in soft lines over his chest. The scars from his beating, the one that put him in the hospital and led to their meeting, were faded. With that memory, her mind snapped to his actions and the desire to discover the reason behind them. Why was he hiding something from her?

Kurloz pushed her away momentarily to shed the garment. After tossing it away, he reached for Meulin again, but she braced her hand on his chest and pushed him down. She sat up, straddling his hips.

“What,” she said, face set into a cold, serious expression, “Is this about?”

Kurloz rolled his head back, sighing. “Can’t I just spend time with you?”

“You’re hiding something.” She frowned. Her eyes were cautious. “Kurloz…”

He propped himself up on his arms. Meulin could tell he was trying to meet her eyes, but he really didn’t want to. “I’ve had to take… a job.”

“A job?” Meulin’s tone was wary.

“Look. There’s been some motherfucking shit going down lately, and this job was really… I had no motherfucking choice. I don’t wanna…” he fell silent.

“Don’t want to what? Kurloz?” Meulin was worried, but Kurloz didn’t seem to want to go on. She chewed her lip.

“What kind of job?”

Kurloz sat up further, forcing Meulin to back up, so that she was sitting on his thighs. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

“I want you to tell me.”

“Please.” Kurloz’s expression was pained. “Don’t make me tell you.”

Meulin took pity on him then. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him roughly. She wasn’t about to forget this conversation, but knew to pick her battles. This was not one she wanted to drag out.

Kurloz put his hands on her hips, pushing her nightshirt up so that he could feel her skin. His fingers stroked her sides and then moved around to her back and upward. When they reached her shoulderblades, Meulin was suddenly struck with the thought that she hadn’t changed out of her pajamas. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

Kurloz undoubtedly realized this, too. His fingers were slowly creeping towards her front. She could stop him, if she wanted to.

She did the opposite. Briefly pulling away, she pushed him so that he was lying back and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling the whole thing off in one go. When the fabric was through obstructing her vision, she saw Kurloz’s expression. His eyes were wide as he took in her topless form. Meulin’s face burned with embarrassment, but then Kurloz reached for her, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her atop him. Meulin gasped, using her arms to brace herself on the sofa and keep her head just above his. She could see in his eyes then, the way he watched her with a gaze half-lidded. One hand moved from her hip to the back of her head, gently coaxing her down so that his lips could reach hers. His hands roamed her body until they pushed between the two and reached her breasts. At the touch, Meulin broke away, gasping, and with her neck exposed, Kurloz found a new place for his lips, dragging them over her neck, her shoulders, and her chest. Meulin adored the stimulation and craved more, soon finding herself moving, grinding against him ever so lightly. Kurloz felt this, and adjusted positions slightly so that his thigh came between her legs. He ground upwards.

Meulin’s reaction was one of pure ecstasy. She craned backwards, moaning softly as sensation pricked through her body. But she became aware of how fast her heart was beating, uncomfortably so, and how tense her body was. She froze.

Kurloz quickly realized her inactivity. He stopped and looked up at her.

“Are you okay?”

Meulin couldn’t find it in herself to answer. Kurloz sat up, propping himself up on one arm while reaching to softly stroke her face with the other hand. Meulin couldn’t look at him, but her face was red. He sat up fully and pulled her to his chest, resting his head atop hers while he stroked down her back.

“Too fast?”

“Uh-huh,” Meulin mumbled. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He reached to the floor, grabbing Meulin’s shirt. She took it and pulled it back on while Kurloz put his own back. Then, he hugged her close. They stayed like that for a while, cuddling while show after show played on the television. Meulin nearly forgot about what she and Kurloz had been talking about, but near five o’clock, she heard him sigh.

“I gotta go.”

Meulin sat up. “The job?”

“Yeah.”

Meulin stood with him and walked him to the door. He moved to the kitchen, but she shook her head. “Leave it. I’ll put it up.”

“Okay.” Kurloz said. “I’ll, uh, see you later.”

“Kurloz.” Meulin stopped him just when he reached the front door. She grabbed his hand. “Be safe. Let me… let me know that you’re okay.”

“Yeah.” Kurloz retreated. When he was out on the porch, he turned. “You, too.”

~~~

The letter in his pocket used to be white. It used to be crisp. Unmarred.

When Kurloz had gotten home and found it in his mailbox, as per instruction, it was. A singular piece of postage-actually, it couldn’t be called postage. This message had been hand-delivered by someone, probably one of Dualscar’s henchmen, so as to avoid any mix-up with the postal service. Aside, it was a singular, businesslike envelope with Kurloz’s name printed in neat, capital letters. On the inside of the envelope, a businesslike letter was found, typed on crisp, white paper. The entire document lacked life; it was as colorless as Kurloz felt his soul would look, had souls been conceptualized as something more visible. But they weren’t, and the bleakness of the letter just reflected Kurloz’s mood towards the ordeal.

He was supposed to off someone.

He felt sick. Just a little bit. Kurloz was no stranger to taking a human life; he’d been down this road before, this wasn’t his first rodeo. But opening the mailbox, feeling the tangibility of the letter, acknowledging its contents as they were stated before his eyes, the actions reminded him of how real this job was, how real the person at the other end of the bullet was.

Dating a nurse could give a guy renewed respect for life.

And such a serious hitjob was not the best thing on which he could make his return to the thug life.

Kurloz ran a hand through his hair, feeling the dampness of an uncomfortable, nervous sweat on his brow. Yes, he might be sick.

No. That was unprofessional. How had he done it before? Kurloz closed his eyes, fingers absently running over the letter and rolling the corners as he thought. How had he kept his distance? How had he dealt with the reality of ending a life?

Was it too late to back out?

But Kurloz flashed back to Damara’s nervousness. He remembered Meenah’s brash attitude. His father’s anger and avoidance. Meulin’s worry.

He couldn’t back out now. There was no way in hell Dualscar would let that slide.

So he packed his sniper rifle. Kurloz made quick work of dis- and re-assembling the gun a few times, practicing in case a quick getaway was needed. He checked every part. As the cold metal pieces rested on the kitchen table, Kurloz scratched at his head. He hadn’t lost ability, but he had lost desire. His movements were clumsy with distaste and repulsion at their actions.

No, he told himself, no, you have to do this. Get it in your motherfucking pan, you slow motherfucker. Don’t fuck up. It’s one person. One bullet, hopefully. Just drop ‘em and go. Never have to think about this again.

But he still couldn’t do it. He couldn’t rid himself of the nagging voice of a conscience, telling him that what he was about to do couldn’t be undone. And he just kept thinking about it.

Without even realizing it, Kurloz was in Gamzee’s room. His body had made the decision before his brain had registered that there was even a choice to make, and continued moving as his mind struggled to keep up.

There was the briefest instant in which he managed to regain control of his form, and that was when the drugs were in his hands. Only then could he truly make a conscious decision.

He almost asked himself, do I really want to do this? Almost, but not quite. The answer was already yes.

He went back to the kitchen and reassembled the gun in record time.

~~~

The buzz had barely started to fade when Kurloz set up on the roof across from where this party was to be held. That was what the letter had said; there would be a party. A masquerade of sorts. Kurloz had never been given a name for his target, but rationalized as best he could that a name would be useless at a costume party where you’re supposed to look like somebody other than yourself.

He was still seeing stars, figuratively. It was too cloudy to see the sky, but that was beside the point. Kurloz could still feel the effects of the drug. Going into a job high wasn’t a great decision, but he found it helpful that the dreading feeling, the feeling that he got when he remembered that he was about to kill someone, that feeling that he swore he’d never had before meeting Meulin and wanting to be a better person if only for her, was untouchable when he was like this.

In a not-so-distant part of his mind, he wondered if he should do this more often.

Yes.

No.

The guests started arriving shortly after he set up. He didn’t pay much attention; they weren’t in the window, not in his line of sight.

But then one guest walked past the window. And another. And Kurloz began to get a sinking feeling in his gut. As high as he was, he could still tell what was wrong here.

He’d known from the beginning that this job had a catch. He always knew that there was something off with the way things were being operated.

He never dreamed that he’d be offing someone at a party full of kids.

Okay, that wasn’t quite true. Kurloz wasn’t about to pump a kindergartener full of lead. But these guests, in their ridiculously ornate masks and dresses and suits, were younger than him. Probably younger than Gamzee, too, but only by a little.

Wait. He couldn’t let his hesitation creep up now. He was Kurloz motherfucking Makara. He was high. He was crouching on a roof and aiming down the sights of a sniper rifle into the windows of the town house across the street. He had a reluctant reputation.

And he never hesitated about killing someone.

Keep. It. Together.

Kurloz pulled the worn letter out of his pocket and read over the description one more time. Pink dress with cap sleeves. Gold mask with silver and amber accents.

He peered down his scope again. There were more people at the party now. Why did Dualscar want him to kill a teenager? He scanned the room. This person probably has a family. A pink dress with cap sleeves came into view. She was turned away. He’d never meet her family, anyway. What did he care?

The girl turned to something near the window.

Every part of Kurloz froze. Everything stopped. His breathing. His heart. For a short moment, his muscles stopped moving. His brain stopped processing.

And in the next, everything started again. He disassembled the gun and threw the parts into his bag. He shouldn’t run, he should finish the job, he should shoot her, or else there will be hell to pay tenfold. He would never see the end of his torment if he ran away. He understood that now. Dualscar would be sure of that. But when he had been given this screwed up assignment, he had no idea that he was supposed to kill Feferi Peixes.

Kurloz Makara never ran so fast in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could say "they almost did the secks" but that would take away from the seriousness of the chapter. Whatever. I can't write smutty things anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The repercussions of Kurloz's actions, and lack thereof, will cause a ripple, and that's not going to be something that's easy to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's back, and about half as long as it usually is. But this chapter is a setup chapter for the next (final) part of the story. Think of it as an intermission. Act One came to a close.
> 
> Props to my good friend RiippleEffect for writing the first part of this chapter. I gave her a few guidelines and then let her go with it. I think it turned out well.

_Kurloz’s hands were shaking._

_“Water you doing?!” The fishy-one squealed. How could something so small shriek so loudly? Kurloz didn’t care, not reelly. Heh. Takes two to motherfucking tango he mused. The cold steel in his hands was a small comfort as he slowly advanced towards Feferi. She stumbled back in a feeble to escape her fate. There was no escape, didn’t she realize, not from the Angels of Double Death, and as their messenger, Kurloz knew exactly what he had to do._

_Feferi backed up until she was forced to stop by the brick wall of the school building he had cornered her by. Took some time, but nothing he couldn’t care to give. She kept screaming and begging as if there was anything he could want from her that would make him cease his mission. He raised his arm in a lazy arc and allowed himself a serrated smile. The fishy-one started to cry again, and that was the final motherfucking bendy-straw._

_His finger twitched and all of a sudden Feferi was falling backwards over a ledge that had not been there before. Kurloz dropped the gun and ran to the edge of the building just as her body hit the ground with an audible crunch. His mind felt muddled and twisted, and for a terrifying moment Kurloz thought he would tumble off the edge to follow._

_Strange honking noises filled the air as he looked over the edge. Tentatively Kurloz looked over the edge, knuckles white against the building’s ledge. Feferi was sprawled out on a pile of what seemed to be clown horns and wands. The sight of the familiar objects made his smile widen until Kurloz noticed something odd. The fishy-one was not bleeding the way people should; her blood was pink as it oozed from a huge hole that had been ripped into her torso. There was no way that he could have done that, right? Why would he have wanted to do that? Nothing was making sense._

_“What the motherfuck-“ his panic was interrupted as a familiar scream sounded behind him. He whipped around to face none other than Meulin. She was crying in the ugliest of motherfucking ways as she stumbled closer. He pulled himself away from the edge and tried to get closer to her. He reached out his shaking hands towards her only to pull them back quickly when she recoiled in disgust. Her eyes were filled with tears of green, and her hands were closed around her ears in pain from a sound only she could hear._

_“How could you? How could you?!” Meulin pulled her hands from her head to advance towards the shaking juggalo with arms raised, faced twisted in rage, and all Kurloz could see was the blood on her hands. He did that._

_The revelation caused him to fall to his knees; not his love, how could he have done that? Nothing made sense to him, and he could not get his legs to respond as his Meulin pulled her arm back to claw at his face. He flinched away, raising his arms to protect himself._

_Silence. He peered through parted, blood-soaked fingers, but when he gazed upon lifeless green eyes, he shut his own, standing and stumbling away._

_He couldn’t make himself see where he was going, and so he tripped, over something, and fell. But Kurloz could feel that something had changed, so he slowly opened his eyes to the sudden light around him. Static crawled up his spine and caused his hair to stand on end._

_It was familiar to him, but Kurloz’s mind had begun to bend under the pressure of the prior events and his senses had become dulled. A name was called, and heard as if through water, but all he could do was stare as his anger rushed out of him and left him breathless._

_“Tuna?” he asked quietly._

_He could see the boy, but no movement came from the form on the other side of the room when his name was called again, a soft, muffled shout. Noticing the slight change in scenery, Kurloz blinked and forced his limbs to pull him off the floor into an uncertain slouch._

_He was beginning to get twitchy, Kurloz realized, but there was nothing he could do but shuffle closer to his friend, his motherfucking brother. He called out again, more strongly this time, and Mituna’s voice became more audible._

~~~

“Kurloz!” With one final push, he was sent over the edge.

“Ah!” Kurloz had the wind knocked out of him as he quite painfully met the wooden floor. “Son of a mother _fuck!_ ”

“Jegus H. Christ, man, wat the fkuck iz wrong wit you?”

Kurloz struggled to get his orientation around him. Mituna. That was, yes, that was definitely Mituna standing over him. Very grumpy Mituna. Mituna was here.

Kurloz scrambled to an upright position, head whipping around wildly. “Feferi…Meulin…”

Mituna continued to stand there, an expression of sheer confusion on his face. “…What the fuck.” He bent down and grabbed Kurloz by the shoulders. “Dude. Eyes. Here.” He frowned, sticking out his tongue. “Meulin’s not here. Neither is… Feferi? Meenah’s little sister?”

“They-augh… dead, both of…” for the first time, Kurloz looked like he was finally taking in his surroundings. “Dead… was it all a dream?”

He bowed his head to the floor, closing his eyes. No. It hadn’t been a dream. He’d been there, on the roof. He remembered the feel of the gun in his hands, the concrete underneath him as he aimed down his sights…

But his brain, becoming freed from the clutches of a bad trip, was able to discern the real from the tricky tendrils of his dreams. He opened his eyes. Meulin’s blood no longer stained his hands or his sleeves.

Actually, where the fuck were his clothes.

He was only in his boxers.

Kurloz looked up at the thought, but the instincts that had forced his body into the fetal position let him know why that was a bad idea. He hunched over again, but the damage had been done.

“Ca-Call Meenah,” he rasped out, before forcing his body up and making a break through the thankfully open bathroom door and hunching over the toilet.

He lost track of exactly what went on after that. He was balanced painfully on his feet, gripping the toilet bowl with both arms as he repeatedly fought back the bile and lost the battle. At some point, he was able to register a touch, which rotated from rubbing gentle circles on his back, to running a brush through his hair and pulling it back in a loose ponytail, to softly patting his face with a warm washcloth. The whole time Mituna tended to his friend, he let a soft, relaxing sound emerge from his lips.

“Sh…”

~~~

After getting cleaned up, Kurloz felt well enough to relay the events of the night before to Mituna and Meenah. Neither interrupted him, not even when he recounted seeing Feferi. When he described her dress, having committed the description in the letter to memory and verified it with his own eyes, he noticed Meenah frown. When Kurloz finished talking, Meenah looked at him.

“You’re sure?”

Kurloz nodded.

She buried her head in her hands. “…fuck.”

“I know.”

Meenah stood, pulled her phone out of her pocket, and stalked off into another room. Kurloz and Mituna could hear the intonation of her voice, but not what she was saying.

“Man.”

Kurloz turned his head slowly and gave his full attention to Mituna.

“That’s fuck tup, yaknow.”

“I know.”

“And Dual ‘n Condie’re tight. Shit. Were.”

“I know.”

There sure was a hell of a lot that Kurloz didn’t know, though. And he hated that.

Meenah returned. “We’re leaving.”

Mituna sat up. “All of us?”

“Nope. Just me ‘n him.” Meenah walked over and ruffled Mituna’s mop of hair. “I can trust you to get along on your own. Might wanna shack up with your girl and her cop mom for a few days, though. Just to be safe.”

“Right now?” Kurloz said, standing.

“No, in like, fifteen cod dam minutes. So make some fucking phone calls, cuz whatever connections my mom’s got, Dualscar’s got like half o’ them. So that thing’s not about to be used for a few days.”

Kurloz pulled up his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he got to Meulin.

“Where.”

“You’re not tellin’ ‘er, if that’s why you’re askin’. We’re goin’ somewhere safe.”

“She’s-”

“Cod, Kurly, you think Dualscar’s got half a dam inkling who you’re hooking up with?” Meenah closed her mouth, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Y’know what, gimme that. You really want her to be safe? Call her from some random payphone.”

~~~

Meulin checked her phone for what could have realistically been the twentieth time in an hour. Kurloz hadn’t called or texted, and she had long passed the point of worrying.

Her finger hovered over his contact, and she debated, again, whether or not to press it. Her face was turned down to the screen when she walked into the next patient’s room, but when she looked up, she dropped her phone in shock.

She hadn’t meant to walk in on Cronus and Kankri making out.

The two broke apart when they heard Meulin’s phone clatter to the floor. It was obvious neither had wanted to stop. But Kankri’s blush was as vivid as his sweater, and Cronus was suddenly very animated in greeting his nurse.

“Meulin! Hi! Uh, hope we didn’t, well…”

“It’s fine,” Meulin said, regaining what she hoped was a professional composure. She picked up her phone, glancing down at the screen again. She did this once more when she placed the phone on the table. And again before she went to the cabinet to get the dressings to rebandage Cronus’s wounds.

When she turned away, Cronus snatched up the portable and looked at the screen, curious as to what had captured her attention. The normally bubbly nurse was so melancholy.

His eyes widened as he took in the screen, and he elbowed Kankri.

“Y’think you could get me a snack from the vending machine, babe?”

Kankri, not picking up on the message that he was to vacate the area, protested slightly. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea-”

“Please, babe?”

Kankri relented, leaving the room.

Meulin returned to Cronus’s side, preparing to replace the bandages on his fairly well-mended wounds.

“So.” Cronus started.

“Hm?” Meulin didn’t look up from her work. Cronus waited until she was between injuries.

“Kurloz, huh?"

Cronus laughed at her reaction. He’d never seen anyone’s eyes so wide.

“Just grew up with criminal influences and an insatiable curiosity, babe. But I know the guy. Our gangs are… allies, I guess?” Cronus rolled his eyes. “Used to chill with him. And Meenah. Some others, too.”

How easily, Meulin wondered, had that group adjusted to an extra number? Had she taken Cronus’s place?

Cronus was still talking.

“Not like-not like I needed it, but I mean, guy’s good in tight spots, yeah? He-if I’d let him know, he’d’ve helped. But it was something I had to do. Just me. For…”

Meulin looked up then.

“For Kankri.” Cronus continued. “I did this for him.”

At that point, Kankri walked in the room, face red and eyes watery.

“Chief!” Cronus said, trying to ease the tension in the air from Kankri’s sudden appearance. “Wh-”

“Excuse me,” Kankri said, voice tensely steady, “but do you honestly think that after all this time, all this time I’ve not learned your tricks? You…” Kankri stomped over to Cronus’s bed. “How dare you… for me…?” Kankri turned away for a moment, but then spun to Cronus and screamed. “You could’ve _died_!”

Meulin decided that this was something to which she should not be privy, and so she left.

Her phone remained on the bedside table.

~~~

Still exhausted from the previous night’s actions, Kurloz fell asleep on the backseat of the Condesce’s large, armored SUV. None of those modifications were regulation.

Feferi was on the backseat with him, pushed slightly to the edge of the car due to Kurloz’s sprawled, sleeping form. She had been told, as it was her right to know, that Kurloz had been sent to kill her, but having him so close did not make her nervous. Being friends, in a sense, with Gamzee let Feferi know that the Makaras were, actually, a rather honest family. If Kurloz had really wanted to kill her… well, she wouldn’t be sitting there contemplating it.

Meenah reached back from the front seat and whapped Kurloz. “Wake the fuck up.”

Kurloz jolted awake, nearly kicking Feferi in the face as he did so. He glared unpleasantly at Meenah.

“Suck it up. You wanna call yo girlfrond or what?”

Kurloz just nodded. He opened the door of the car and sort of slid out, walking over to the payphone on the side of the desolate road. He pulled some spare change out of his pocket, picked up the phone, inserted the coins, and took a deep breath.

~~~

Meulin clocked off shift and was about to go on her way when she heard a familiar voice.

“Meulin, wait for a second.”

“Hmm?” she questioned, turning to Kankri.

He walked up to her and held out her phone. “You left this in Cronus’s room. Forgive me, but I didn’t give it to you until now because I thought you’d be distracted.”

“…Oh.” Meulin took the phone and put it in her purse. “Thank you.”

“Wait-” Kankri reached out to her. She looked up at him. “I’m sorry. That- this morning, I mean-”

“It was private. I understand.” Meulin smiled up at him. “I’m happy for you.” It wasn’t a lie.

They parted on amicable terms, and then Meulin went on her way. She even managed to get almost to her home before suddenly remembering to check her phone.

She almost wasn’t prepared for the message notification when she saw it. It was from a number she didn’t recognize. She stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk and pressed the button to listen to it.

Her breath caught when she realized it was Kurloz’s voice.

_“Meu-Meulin, it’s me. Kurloz. I, uh, I fucked up. Shit, if you even knew the way this motherfucker screwed everything to hell-but that’s not what’s important. I’m… I’ve got to go away for a while. I don’t wanna motherfucking leave like this, but I… have to. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I-shit, I’m almost out of time-_ Meenah! _-nevermind. I-I’ll be back. I-”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Intermission is finished. On to Act Two.


End file.
